GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 

E.ZELLER 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF     ^ 

THE  UNIVERSITY' 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
MRS.  VIRGINIA  B.  SPORER 


C- 


LOS  A££ELES 

OUTLINES   OF   THE   HISTORY 


GREEK  PHILOSOPHY 


BY 

DB.  EDWARD  ZELLEB 


TRANSLATED  WITH  THE  AUTHOR'S  SANCTION 

BY 

SARAH  FRANCES  ALLEYNE 

AND 

EVELYN  ABBOTT 


NEW  YORK 

HENRY  HOLT  AND  COMPANY 
1890 


IN     MEMORIAM 
SABAH    FRANCES  ALLEYNB 


2041989 


AUTHOE'S   PEEFACE. 


FOR  some  years  it  has  been  my  intention  to  respond  to 
a  request  arising  from  various  quarters,  and  add  to  my 
larger  work  on  the  Philosophy  of  the  Greeks  a  short 
sketch  of  the  same  subject.  But  until  the  third 
edition  of  the  History  was  brought  to  a  conclusion  I 
had  not  the  leisure  for  the  work.  Sketches  of  this  kind 
will  proceed  on  different  lines  according  to  the  aim 
which  is  held  in  view.  My  object  has  been  primarily 
to  provide  students  with  a  help  for  academical  lectures, 
which  would  facilitate  preparation,  and  save  the  time 
wasted  in  writing  down  facts,  without  interfering  with 
the  lecturer's  work  or  imposing  any  fetters  upon  it 
Hence  I  have  made  it  my  task  to  give  my  readers  a  pic- 
ture of  the  contents  of  the  philosophical  systems,  and 
the  course  of  their  historical  development,  which  should 
contain  all  the  essential  traits — and  also  to  put  into 
their  hands  the  more  important  literary  references  and 
sources.  But  as  in  the  last  points  I  have  not  gone 
beyond  what  is  absolutely  necessary,  so  in  the  historical 
account  I  have  as  a  rule  indicated  the  parts  very  briefly 
with  which  historical  considerations  of  a  general  kind  or 
special  explanations  and  inquiries  are  connected,  or  in 


vffi  AUTHORS  PREFACE. 

which  it  seemed  proper  to  supplement  my  earlier  work. 
(An  addition  of  the  latter  kind,  in  some  detail,  will  be 
found  in  sections  3  and  4.) 

My  outlines  are  intended  in  the  first  place  for 
beginners,  who  as  a  rule  form  the  majority  of  an 
audience.  But  these  are  rather  confused  than  assisted 
if  the  historical  material  is  given  in  too  great  abun- 
dance, or  they  are  overwhelmed  with  the  titles  of 
books  of  which  they  will  only  see  a  very  small  portion. 
Anyone  who  wishes  to  study  the  history  of  philosophy 
or  any  part  of  it  more  minutely,  must  not  content 
himself  with  a  compendium,  but  consult  the  sources 
and  the  more  comprehensive  works  upon  them.  At 
the  same  time,  I  am  well  aware  that  manuals  may  very 
properly  be  constructed  on  a  different  plan  from  mine. 
A  trustworthy  bibliography,  for  instance,  furnished  with 
the  necessary  hints  on  the  value  and  contents  of  the 
various  works,  or  a  chrestomathy  on  the  plan  of 
Preller,  but  more  strict  in  selection,  would  be  very 
valuable  aids  in  instruction.  Nor  will  it  be  against  mj 
intention  if  the  present  work  finds  readers  beyond  it* 
immediate  object.  Nevertheless,  it  is  my  opinion  that 
every  scientific  exposition  must  set  out  with  an 
accurately  defined  aim.  It  is  highly  objectionable 
that  an  author  should  constantly  strive  after  other 
ends  than  that  which  is  the  main  purpose  of  his  book. 

THE  AUTHOB. 
Bmuov :  September  87. 1888. 


TBANSLATOK'S  PBEFACE. 


OF  the  following  pages,  the  first  part,  down  to  the 
words  '  practical  life '  on  p.  90,  is  the  work  of  the  late 
Miss  Alleyne,  whose  manuscripts  were  entrusted  to  me. 
For  the  remainder,  and  for  the  revision  of  the  whole,  I 
am  responsible. 

Miss  Alleyne  began  her  series  of  translations  of 
Zeller's  *  History  of  Philosophy '  with  the  *  Plato  and 
the  Older  Academy,'  published  in  1876  in  conjunction 
with  Prof.  Goodwin,  of  University  College,  London. 
This  was  followed  in  1881  by  the  two  volumes  of  *  The 
Pre-Socratic  Philosophy,'  and  in  1883  by  *  The  Eclec- 
tics.' It  was  also  her  intention,  when  the  present 
work  was  ended,  to  translate  the  last  volume  of  the 
;  History.'  But  in  the  prime  of  life,  and  in  the  full 
vigour  of  her  powers,  she  died,  after  a  month's  illness, 
August  16,  1884. 

The  excellence  of  her  work  has  received  universal 
recognition.  It  was  a  labour  of  love.  The  theories  of 
the  Greek  Philosophers,  and  their  efforts  to  conceive 
the  world  in  which  they  lived,  had  a  deep  interest  for 


i  TRANSLATORS  PREFACE. 

her.  An  inward  sympathy  with  them  gave  her  an  in- 
sight into  the  meaning  of  speculations  which  by  many 
are  deemed  idle  vagaries.  To  her  they  were  steps  or 
stages  in  the  progress  of  the  human  mind,  not  merely 
words  or  opinions.  In  the  '  being '  of  Parmenides,  in 
the  *  dry  light '  of  Heracleitus,  she  perceived  a  begin- 
ning or  foreshadowing  of  modern  thought.  Plato  was 
*  one  of  the  books  she  would  have  taken  with  her  to  a 
desert  island.' 

She  knew  the  value  of  accuracy,  and  was  at  great 
pains  to  secure  it.  She  had  also  a  keen  sense  of  literary 
style,  and  would  turn  a  sentence  three  or  four  times 
before  she  could  be  satisfied  with  it.  Hence  the  excel- 
lence of  her  work  as  a  translator.  But  though  her 
literary  powers  were  of  an  uncommon  order,  to  those 
who  were  personally  acquainted  with  her  they  form 
only  a  small  part  of  her  claim  to  remembrance.  For 
she  united  with  rare  intellectual  gifts  a  truly  noble  and 
womanly  character.  She  was  one  of  those  who  live  for 
others,  themselves  not  caring  to  be  known.  There  are 
many  by  whom  her  writings  would  not  have  been 
understood  who  cherish  her  memory  as  a  great  posses- 
sion, and  feel  that  they  have  lost  a  friend  never  to  be 
replaced. 

EVELYN  ABBOTT. 

BALLIOL  COLLEGE,  OXFORD  i 
AMW»*0r  10.  1886. 


CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


A.  METHODOLOQIC  AND  LITERARY. 

9BCT.  MOB 

1.  The  history  of  philosophy 1 

2.  Greek  philosophy 6 

3.  Original   sources.    The  history  of  philosophy  among  the 

ancients 7 

4.  Modem  aids 14 

B.    HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

5.  Origin  of  Greek  philosophy.    Its  supposed  derivation  from 

the  East 18 

6.  Native  sources  of  Greek  philosophy 21 

7.  The  development  of  Greek  thought  before  the  sixth  cen- 

tury B.O 24 

8.  Character  and  development  of  Greek  philosophy         .        .28 


FIRST  PERIOD. 

THE  PRE-80CRATIC  PHILOSOPHY. 
9.  Coarse  of  its  development 88 

L  TEE  THREE  EARLIEST  SCHOOLS. 

A.  THE  ANCIENT  IONIANS. 

10.  Thale» 87 

11.  Anazimander    ..........    89 


xii  CONTENTS. 

12^'Anaximenes 41 

13.  Later  adherents  of  the  ancient  Ionian  school.    Diogenes    .  43 

B.    THE  PYTHAGOREANS. 

14.  Pythagoras  and  his  school 45 

16.  The  Pythagorean  system:  number  and  the  elements  of 

number 60 

16.  The  Pythagorean  physics 62 

17.  Religious  and  ethical  doctrines  of  the  Pythagoreans        .    .  56 

18.  Pythagoreanism  in  combination  with  other  doctrines  .        .  66 

O.   THE  ELEATICS. 

19.  Xenoplianes       .••.......68 

20.  Parmeuides   ..........  60 

21.  Zeno  and  Melissus 63 

IL    THE  PHYSICISTS  OF  THE  FIFTH  CENTURY  B.C. 

22.  Heracleitus 66 

23.  Empedocles 71 

24.  The  atomistic  school     ........  76 

26.  Anazagoras 83 

IIL    THE  SOPHISTS. 

26.  Origin  and  character  of  Sophisticism  .....  88 

27.  Eminent  Sophistical  teachers    .        .        .        .        .        .    .  91 

28.  The  Sophistical  scepticism  and  Eristic          .        .        .        .92 

29.  The  Sophistic  ethics  and  rhetoric     .        .        .        .        .    .  96 


SECOND  PERIOD. 

80CRATE8,  PLATO,  ARISTOTLE. 

80.  Introduction 


L  SOCRATES. 
81.  Life  and  personality  of  Socrates      .       .       •     "•       .   .  101 

32.  The  philosophy  of  Socrates.    The  sources,  principle,  method  103 

33.  The  nature  of  the  Socratic  teaching 107 

34.  The  death  of  Socrates  .,.,.,,.  11? 


CONTENTS.  xifa 

II.  THE  SMALLEB  SOCRATIO  SCHOOLS. 

-KCT.  PACJB 

35.  The  school  of  Socrates :  Xenophon 113 

36.  The  Megarean  and  the  Elean-Eretrian  schools     .        .  114 

37.  The  Cynic  school       ...  ...  .117 

38.  The  Cyrenaic  school      ....  ...  122 

III.  PLATO  AND  THE  OLDER  ACADEMY. 

39.  The  life  of  Plato 126 

40.  Plato's  writings 128 

41.  The   character,  method,  and   divisions  of    the   Platonic 

system 134 

42.  The  propaedeutic  foundation  of  the  Platonic  philosophy      .  136 

43.  Dialectic,  or  the  doctrine  of  ideas 140 

44.  Plato's  physics,  matter,  and  the  world-soul       .        .        .    .  145 

45.  The  universe  and  its  parts    .....  .  150 

46.  Plato's  anthropology .   .  162 

47.  Plato's  ethics 164 

48.  Plato's  politics 168 

49.  Plato's  views  on  religion  and  art 161 

50.  The  later  form  of  the  Platonic  doctrine.    The  'Laws'    .  .  163 

51.  The  old  Academy 166 

IV.  ARISTOTLE  AND  THE  PERIPATETIC  SCHOOL. 

52.  Aristotle's  life 170 

53.  Aristotle's  writings       .        .        .        •        .        .        .        .172 

54.  The  philosophy  of  Aristotle.    Introductory     ...      179 
56.  The  Aristotelian  logic .  181 

66.  Aristotle's  metaphysics 187 

67.  Aristotle's  physics.    Point  of  view  and  general  principles  .  194 

58.  The  universe  and  its  parts    .......  197 

59.  Living  beings .    .  201 

60.  Man 204 

61.  The  ethics  of  Aristotle      .        . 209 

62.  The  politics  of  Aristotle 213 

63.  Rhetoric  and  Art.    Attitude  of  Aristotle  to  religion        .      219 

64.  The  Peripatetic  school .222 


riv  CONTENTS. 

THIRD  PERIOD. 
THE  POST-ARISTOTELIAN  PHILOSOPHY. 


SECT. 

65.  Introduction 


FIRST  SECTION. 

STOICISM,  EPICUREANISM,  SCEPTICISM. 
L  THB  STOIC  PHILOSOPHY. 

66.  The  Stoic  school  in  the  third  and  second  centuries  B.O.    .    .  229 

67.  Character  and  divisions  of  the  Stoic  system         .        .        .  231 

68.  The  Stoic  logic 234 

69.  The  Stoic  physics ;  the  ultimate  bases  and  the  universe      .  238 

70.  Nature  and  man 243 

71.  The  Stoic  ethics;  their  general  traits 244 

72.  Continuation.    Applied  morals.    The  relation  of  Stoicism 

to  religion 250 

IL  THE  EPICTTBEAN  PHILOSOPHY. 

73.  Epicurus  and  his  school 255 

74.  The  Epicurean  system.     The  Canonio 257 

75.  The  physics  of  Epicurus.     The  goda 259 

76.  The  ethics  of  Epicurus .    .  264 

m.  SCEPTICISM. 

77.  Pyrrho  and  the  Pyrrhonians 268 

78.  The  New  Academy  .  .  .    ,  869 


SECOND   SECTION. 

ECLECTICISM,    RENEWED    SCEPTICISM,  PRECURSORS 
OF  NEO-PLATONISM. 

I.  ECLECTICISM. 

79.  Its  origin  and  character        ...  ...  874 

80.  The  Stoic*.     Boethus,  Panaetius,  Posidonlua  .  .  276 

81.  The  Academicians  of  the  last  century  B.C.  ....  279 

82.  The  Peripatetic  school  . 282 


CONTENTS.  ** 

SECT.  PA'IK 

83.  Cicero,  Varro,  the  Sextians  .......  264 

84.  The  first  centuries  A.D.    The  Stoic  school        .        .        .    .  286 

85.  The  later  Cynics .  293 

86.  The  Peripatetic  school  in  the  Christian  period          .        .    .  295 

87.  The  Platonists  of  the  first  century  A.D.         .        .        .        .297 

88.  Dio,  Lucian,  and  Galen     .        .        .        .        «        .        .    .  299 

n.  THE  LATEK  SCEPTICS. 

89.  JSnesidemus  and  his  school .......  800 

HI.  THE  PRECURSORS  OF  NEO-PLATONISM. 

90.  Introduction 805 

I.    THE  PURELY  GREEK   SCHOOLS. 

91.  The  Neo-Pythagoreans          .......  306 

92.  The  Pythagorising  Platonists .  811 

II.      THE  JEWISH   GREEK  PHILOSOPHY. 

93.  The  period  before  Philo 816 

94.  Philo  of  Alexandria  .    .  820 


THIRD  SECTION. 
NEO-PLATONISM. 

95.  Origin,  character,  and  development  of  Neo-Platonism    .    .  826 

96.  The  system  of  Plotinus.     The  supersensuous  world   .        .  328 

97.  Plotinus'  doctrine  of  the  phenomenal  world   .        .        .    .  333 
J?8.  Plotinus' doctriny^  of  elevation  into  the  supersensuous  world  337 
99.  The  school  of  Pi  >tinus.     Porphyrius 340 

100.  lainblichus  and  his  school        .......  843 

101.  The  school  of  Athena  .  .  847 


IXDKX    .  867 


OUTLINES 

OF   THE 

HISTORY  OF  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY, 

INTRODUCTION. 

A.    METHODOLOGIC    AND    LITERARY. 

§  1.  The  History  of  Philosophy. 

THE  problem  of  philosophy  is  to  investigate  scienti 
Scally  the  ultimate  bases  of  Knowledge  and  Being,  and 
to  comprehend  all  Reality  in  its  interconnection  with 
them.  The  attempts  at  the  solution  of  this  problem 
form  the  subject-matter  with  which  the  history  of 
philosophy  is  concerned.  But  they  are  so  only  to  the 
extent  that  they  connect  themselves  with  greater 
wholes,  with  interdependent  series  of  development. 
The  history  of  philosophy  must  point  out  by  what 
causes  the  human  spirit  was  led  to  philosophic  in- 
quiry ;  in  what  form  men  first  became  conscious  of 
its  problems,  and  how  they  undertook  to  solve  them ; 
how,  in  progress  of  time,  thought  subdued  wider 
domains  and  found  new  statements  of  questions  neces- 
sary, and  new  answers  to  them;  and  how  out  of  the 
multifarious  repetition  of  this  process  arose  all  the 


a  INTRODUCTION.  tl  1 

philosophic  theories  and  systems  with  which  we  are  at 
various  periods  more  or  less  perfectly  acquainted.  In 
a  word,  it  must  describe  the  development  of  philosophic 
thought,  in  its  historical  connection  from  its  earliest 
beginning,  as  completely  as  the  condition  of  our 
sources  of  knowledge  allow. 

As  we  are  here  concerned  with  the  knowledge  of 
historical  facts,  and  as  facts  which  we  have  not  our- 
selves observed  can  only  be  known  to  us  through 
tradition,  the  history  of  philosophy,  like  all  history, 
must  begin  with  the  collection  of  direct  and  indirect 
testimonies,  the  examination  of  their  origin  and  credi- 
bility, and  the  establishment  of  facts  in  accordance  with 
such  evidence.  But  if  this  problem  cannot  be  solved 
without  regard  to  the  historical  connection  in  which 
the  particular  fact  first  receives  its  closer  determination 
and  full  verification,  it  is  at  the  same  time  impossible 
to  understand  the  progress  of  historical  events  unless 
we  put  together  the  particular  facts  not  only  in  relation 
to  their  contemporaneous  or  successive  occurrence,  but 
also  in  relation  to  cause  and  effect;  unless  each  phe- 
nomenon is  explained  in  reference  to  its  causes  and 
conditions,  and  its  influence  on  contemporary  and  suc- 
ceeding phenomena  is  pointed  out.  Now  the  theories 
and  systems  with  which  the  history  of  philosophy  is 
concerned  are  chiefly  the  work  of  individuals,  and  as 
such  must  be  explained  partly  through  the  expe- 
riences which  have  given  occasion  to  their  formation, 
partly  through  the  mode  of  thought  and  the  character 
of  their  authors,  the  convictions,  interests,  and  efforts, 
under  the  influence  of  which  they  originated.  But 


|1]  THE  HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  8 

even  if  our  authorities  enabled  us  to  carry  out  this 
biographical  and  psychological  explanation  far  more 
completely  than  is  the  case,  it  would  still  be  in- 
sufficient; for  it  would  only  inform  us  as  to  the 
immediate  reasons  of  the  historical  phenomena,  leaving 
unnoticed  their  more  remote  causes  and  the  more  com- 
prehensive connection  to  which  they  belong.  The  views 
of  individuals  always  depend,  though  not  in  all  instances 
to  the  same  degree,  upon  the  circle  of  presentations 
from  which  their  spirit  has  derived  its  nourishment, 
and  under  the  influence  of  which  it  has  been  developed  ; 
and  similarly  their  historical  action  is  conditioned  by 
the  fact  that  they  correspond  to  the  necessities  of  the 
time,  and  find  contemporary  acknowledgment. 

On  the  other  hand,  however,  these  views  do  not 
remain  confined  to  their  first  authors,  they  spread  and 
maintain  themselves  in  schools,  and  by  means  of 
writings;  a  scientific  tradition  is  formed,  the  later 
members  learn  from  the  earlier,  and  through  them  are 
stimulated  to  the  completion,  continuation,  and  cor- 
rection of  their  results,  to  the  asking  of  new  questions, 
and  the  search  after  new  answers  and  methods.  The 
systems  of  philosophy,  however  peculiar  and  self- 
dependent  they  may  be,  thus  appear  as  the  members 
of  a  larger  historical  interconnection;  in  respect 
to  this  alone  can  they  be  perfectly  understood;  the 
farther  we  follow  it,  the  more  the  individual  becomes 
united  to  a  whole  of  historical  development,  and  the 
problem  arises  not  merely  of  explaining  this  whole  by 
means  of  the  particular  moments  conditioning  it,  but 
likewise  of  explaining  these  moments  by  one  another, 


4  DtTXODUCTION.  f§  l 

and  consequently  the  individual  by  the  whole.  This 
does  not  mean  that  the  historical  facts  are  to  be 
constructed  in  an  a  priori  manner  out  of  the  con- 
ception of  the  sphere  of  life  whose  history  is  being 
considered,  or  out  of  the  idea  of  the  purpose  to  be 
attained  through  this  history.  By  a  purely  historical 
method,  on  the  basis  of  historical  tradition,  we  must 
ascertain  the  conditions  under  which  the  actual  course 
of  events  took  place,  the  causes  from  which  it  pro- 
ceeded, and  the  concatenation  of  the  Individual  which 
was  the  result.  These  causes  and  conditions,  so  far  as 
the  history  of  philosophy  is  concerned,  may  be  reduced 
to  three  classes:  (1)  the  general  conditions  of  culture 
in  the  particular  nation  at  that  time ;  (2)  the  influence 
of  the  earlier  systems  upon  the  later ;  (3)  the  indivi- 
dual character  of  the  several  philosophers.  If  for  the 
explanation  of  philosophic  theories,  we  confine  our- 
selves to  the  last,  we  shall  fall  into  that  biographical 
and  psychological  pragmatism  of  which  we  have 
already  spoken.  If  we  start,  for  this  purpose,  from 
the  consideration  that  philosophy  is  not  an  isolated 
domain,  but  only  a  particular  member  in  the  collective 
life  of  nations  and  of  humanity,  that  in  its  origin, 
progress,  and  character,  it  is  conditioned  by  religious 
and  political  circumstances,  the  general  state  of  mental 
culture,  and  the  development  of  the  other  sciences,  we 
shall  then  make  an  attempt  to  understand  it  in  rela- 
tion to  these  universal  conditions  of  the  history  of 
culture.  If  we  lay  the  greatest  stress  on  the  continuity 
of  scientific  tradition,  on  the  internal  connection  and 
historical  interaction  of  the  philosophic  schools  and 


f  1]  THE  HISTORY  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  3 

systems,  the  history  of  philosophy  appears  as  an 
isolated,  self-included  progression,  proceeding  from  a 
definite  starting-point,  according  to  its  own  internal 
laws ;  a  progression  which  we  shall  the  more  thoroughly 
understand  the  more  completely  we  succeed  in  showing 
each  later  phenomenon  to  be  the  logical  consequence 
of  its  predecessor,  and  consequently  the  whole,  as 
Hegel  undertook  to  prove,  a  development  fulfilling 
itself  with  dialectic  necessity.  But  though  this  moment 
increases  in  importance  the  more  independently  philo- 
sophy develops  itself,  the  direction  and  form  of  philo- 
sophic thought  is,  at  the  same  time,  likewise  determined 
by  the  other  considerations.  These,  however,  do  not 
always  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  each  other  in 
regard  to  their  influence  and  significance ;  sometimes 
the  creative  energy  of  prominent  personalities  is  more 
strongly  felt,  sometimes  the  dependence  of  the  later 
systems  upon  the  earlier,  sometimes  the  operation  of 
the  universal  conditions  of  culture.  The  historian  has 
to  inquire  how  much  importance  in  the  bringing  about 
of  historical  results  belongs  to  each  of  these  elements,  in 
any  given  case,  and  to  draw  a  plan  of  the  historical 
course  and  interconnection  of  the  phenomena  of  which 
it  consists,  on  the  basis  of  this  inquiry. 

§  2.     Greek  Philosophy. 

The  question  as  to  the  causes  by  which  the  world 
and  human  life  are  determined  has  occupied  the  spirit 
of  -man  from  the  earliest  times  and  in  the  most  various 
places.  But  that  which  ca]led  it  forth  was  originally 
not  so  much  the  desire  for  knowledge  as  the  feeling  of 


8  INTRODUCTION.  [I* 

dependence  upon  higher  powers,  and  the  wish  to  secure 
their  favour ;  while  the  path  on  which  an  answer  was 
sought  was  not  that  of  scientific  inquiry  but  of  mytho- 
logical poetry.  Among  a  few  nations  only  this  pro- 
duced in  course  of  time  theological  and  cosmological 
speculations  which  try  to  gain  a  more  comprehensive 
view  of  the  origin  and  constitution  of  the  world,  but  as 
long  as  these  speculations  continue  to  start  from 
mythological  tradition,  and  are  satisfied  with  the 
amplifi  cation  and  remodelling  of  mythical  intuitions, 
they  can  only  be  reckoned  as  precursors  of  philosophy, 
not  as  philosophic  theories  proper.  Philosophy  first 
begins  when  man  experiences  and  acts  upon  the  neces- 
sity of  explaining  phenomena  by  means  of  natural 
causes.  This  necessity  may  have  appeared  indepen- 
dently in  different  places  when  the  preliminary  condi- 
tions of  it  were  present ;  and  we  actually  find  among 
the  Indian  and  Chinese  systems  of  doctrine  some  which 
are  far  enough  removed  from  the  theological  specula- 
tions of  these  nations  to  be  truly  described  as  their 
philosophy.  But  the  thought  of  a  rational  knowledge 
of  things  asserted  itself  more  strongly  and  with  more 
abiding  results  among  the  Hellenes  than  in  either  of 
these  countries ;  and  it  is  from  them  alone  that  a  con- 
tinuous scientific  tradition  extends  to  our  own  times. 
The  founders  of  Greek  philosophy  are  at  the  same  time 
the  ancestors  of  our  own ;  their  knowledge  therefore 
has  for  us  not  merely  an  historical,  but  also  a  very 
important  practical  and  scientific  interest ;  the  former, 
however,  exceeds  all  that  the  remaining  science  of  the 
ancient  world  can  offer,  as  much  as  Greek  philosophv 


§  XI  GXEEK  PHILOSOPHY.  7 

itself,  by  its  spiritual  content,  its  scientific  complete- 
ness, its  rich  and  logical  development,  transcends  all 
the  rest  of  ancient  science. 

§  3.    Original  Sources.     The  History  of 
Philosophy  among  the  Ancients. 

Among  the  sources  from  which  our  knowledge  of 
ancient  philosophy  is  derived,  the  existing  writings  of 
the  philosophers  and  fragments  of  their  lost  works,  so  far 
as  they  are  genuine,  as  immediate  sources,  occupy  the 
first  place.  Unauthentic  writings,  in  proportion  as 
their  origin  and  date  of  composition  can  be  determined, 
may  be  used  as  evidence  for  the  standpoint  and  views 
of  the  circles  from  which  they  emanated.  The  indirect 
sources  comprise  besides  independent  historical  accounts 
of  the  personality,  lives,  and  doctrines  of  the  philo- 
sophers, all  the  works  in  which  these  are  occasionally 
mentioned.  Among  the  latter  the  most  valuable  in- 
formation is  obtained  partly  from  books  of  extracts, 
which  have  preserved  for  us  fragments  of  older  writers, 
such  as  those  of  Athena?us  and  Gellius,  Eusebius' 
irpoTrapao-Ksvr)  £vayys\iKij  (about  330  A.D.),  Johannes 
Stobaeus' great  work  (probably  composed  between  450  A.D. 
and  550  A.D.),  which  is  now,  so  far  as  any  portions  have 
been  preserved,  divided  between  the  *  Eclogues  *  and  the 
*  Florilegium ; '  and  Photius'  '  Library '  (he  died  in  891 
A.D.)  ;  and  partly  from  the  writings  of  authors  who  for  the 
establishment  of  their  own  theories  enter  minutely  into 
those  of  their  predecessors,  as  Plato,  so  far  as  we  know, 
was  the  first  to  do  in  a  comprehensive  manner,  and 
after  him  Aristotle,  still  more  thoroughly;  later  on, 


8  INTRODUCTION.  [*» 

authors  like  Cicero,  Seneca,  Plutarch,  Galen,  Sextos 
Empiricus,  Numenius,  Porphyry,  lamblichus,  Proclus, 
the  commentators  on  Aristotle  and  Plato,  Philo  of 
Alexandria,  and  the  Christian  Fathers,  Justin,  Clemens, 
Origen,  Hippolytus,  Tertullian,  Augustin,  Theodoret, 
&c.  From  Aristotle,  through  the  critical  survey  of  the 
principles  of  his  predecessors  contained  in  the  first  book 
of  his  *  Metaphysics,'  came  the  first  impulse  towards 
the  independent  treatment  of  the  history  of  philosophy, 
which  Theophrastus  undertook  in  the  eighteen  books 
of  his  *  Doctrines  of  the  Physicists '  (quoted  as  (frvcrifcal 
Sogai,  and  also  as  (frv&iicr)  ta-rop la,  '  History  of  Physics'), 
and  in  numerous  monographs ;  while  Eudemus  treated 
of  the  history  of  Arithmetic,  Geometry,  and  Astronomy, 
perhaps  also  of  theological  views,  in  separate  works. 
On  Theophrastus'  '  History  of  Physics '  were  founded, 
as  Diels  has  shown  ('  Doxographi,'  1879),  those  reviews 
of  the  doctrines  of  the  various  philosophers  which 
Clitomachus  (about  120  A.D.)  gave  in  connection  with 
the  criticisms  of  Carneades,  and  which  seem  to  have 
formed  the  chief  treasury  of  the  later  sceptics,  the 
compilation  of  the  *  Placita,'  which  was  made  about 
80-60  B.C.  by  an  unknown  author,  and  was  already 
used  by  Cicero  and  Varro  (an  epitome  of  it  has  been 
to  a  great  extent  preserved  in  the  Pseudo-Plutarchic 
*  Placita  Philosophorum  '),  the  '  Eclogues '  of  Stobaeus 
(vide  supra),  and  Theodoret's  'EXXyvitcwv  •jraO^p.a-raiv 
GspaTrevriKij,  iv.  5  ff.  Theodoret  calls  the  author  of 
this  work  Ae'tius ;  the  date  of  its  compilation  would 
seem  to  fall  in  the  first  third,  and  that  of  the 
Plutarchic  '  Placita '  in  the  middle,  of  the  second  cen- 


1 8]  SOURCES.    ANCIENT  WRITINGS.  • 

tury  after  Christ.  The  author  of  the  Pseudo-Plutarchic 
<rrpa}fj,aT£is  (about  150  A.D. ;  fragments  of  them  are 
preserved  in  Euseb.  *  Pr.  Ev.'  i.  8 ),  would  seem  to  have 
drawn  directly  from  Theophrastus,  as  also  did  two 
doxographs  used  by  Hippolytus  (aiplcswv  eXsyxos,  B.  i. 
formerly  designated  as  '  Philosophumena  of  Origen') 
and  Diogenes  Laertius.  Further  traces  of  this  literature 
can  be  discovered  in  the  Fathers  of  the  Church,  in 
Irenseus  (about  190  A.D.),  Clement  (200A.D.),  Eusebius 
(died  about  340  A.D.),  Epiphanius  (died  in  403  A.D.), 
Augustin  (died  in  430  A.D.).  The  last  offshoots  of  it 
that  have  been  preserved  are  the  treatise  -rrspl  (f>i\o- 
<r6<f>ov  laropias  by  the  pseudo-Gralen,  and  Hermias' 
Sia<Tvp(jibs  rwv  l£o>  <f>i\o<j-6<f)(av.  About  70  B.C.  Antio- 
chus  of  Ascalon,  the  Academic,  tried  to  justify  his 
Eclecticism  by  a  syncretistic  exposition  of  the  Aca- 
demic, Peripatetic,  and  Stoic  doctrines,  which  was 
therefore  based  on  motives  not  altogether  historic. 
Towards  the  end  of  the  same  century,  Eudorus  the 
Academic  and  Arius  Didymus  the  Eclectic  Stoic  followed 
him  in  a  similar  direction.  (For  fragments  of  Arius  Didy- 
mus, see  Diels,  «  Doxogr.'  445  ff. ;  Stob.  <  Eel.'  ii.  32  ff.) 
Besides  these  dogmatic  and  historical  surveys  of  the 
opinions  of  the  philosophers,  there  is  a  second  series  of 
writings,  which  treat  of  them  in  a  biographical  manner 
partly  as  individuals,  and  partly  according  to  schools, 
and  unite  the  exposition  of  their  doctrines  with 
accounts  of  their  lives,  the  common  doctrines  of  a 
school  with  those  of  its  founder.  To  these  belong 
Xenophon'.s  'Memorabilia'  of  Socrates,  and  whatever  is 
to  be  considered  historical  in  the  dialogues  of  Plato ; 


10  INTRODUCTION.  [i  8 

the  lost  writings  of  the  Platonists,  Speusippus,  Xeno- 
crates,  Philippus,  and  Hermodorus,  concerning  their 
teacher;  of  Henicleides  of  Pontus,  concerning  the 
Pythagoreans ;  of  Lyco  the  Pythagorean  (about  320  B.C.), 
concerning  Pythagoras.  This  branch  of  the  literature 
of  the  history  of  philosophy  has  its  chief  seat,  however, 
in  the  Peripatetic  school,  and  among  the  scholars  of 
Alexandria  who  were  connected  with  it.  Monographs 
on  particular  philosophers,  and  extracts  from  their  books, 
are  mentioned  by  Aristotle  and  Theophrastus,  also  by 
the  Aristotelians,  Dicaearchus,  Aristoxenus  (/8toi  avSpwv, 
HvdayopiKol  aTrcHpdcrsis),  Clearchus,  and  Phanias. 
About  250  B.C.  the  celebrated  Callimachus  of  Gyrene 
composed  in  Alexandria  his  great  literary  and  historical 
work,  which  was  of  much  importance  for  the  history  of 
philosophy,  entitled  irLvaKss  rcov  kv  Trdar)  ira^sia 
SiaXafjL^lrdvTwv  Kal  <av  avvsypa^rav.  About  240  B.C. 
Neanthes  of  Cyzicus,  composed  a  work  irepl  iv&ogajv 
avbpwv;  about  225  B.C.  Antigonus  of  Carystus  wrote 
his  fiiot;  about  200  B.C.  Hermippus  the  Peripatetic  6 
KaXXt/ia^etoy,  another  /9/ot,  a  rich  mine  of  biographical 
and  literary  notices  for  the  later  writers.  Satyrus,  the 
Aristarchean,  another  Peripatetic,  also  wrote  /Sio/,  and 
Sotion  a  SiaSo^^  rtav  <£t\oo-o(/>an/,  which  continued  to  be 
the  authority  for  the  division  of  particular  philosophers 
among  the  schools ;  extracts  from  the  two  works  last  men- 
tioned were  made  by  Heracleides  Lembus  (180-1 50  B.C.). 
About  the  same  time  Antisthenes  the  Peripatetic,  of 
Rhodes,  wrote  his  fyiXo&ofywv  StaSo^ai ;  the  similar  work 
of  his  countryman  Sosicrates  seems  to  have  appeared 
rather  later  (130  B.C.).  To  the  Academic  school  belonged 


§8]         SOURCES.     ANCIENT  BIOGRAPHIES.          11 

Aristippus  (about  210  B.C.),  who  wrote  a  treatise  irepl 
<f)v<rio\6ya)v,  and  the  work  of  Clitomachus  -jrspl  aip6- 
asuv,  perhaps  not  distinct  from  that  mentioned  on  p.  8. 
From  the  school  of  the  Stoics  came  Eratosthenes 
(274-194),  the  celebrated  scholar  whose  chronological 
dates  were  adopted  for  the  history  of  philosophy ; 
Apollodorus  (about  140  B.C.),  also  a  Stoic,  who  seems  to 
have  followed  him  almost  entirely  in  his  '  Chronica  ; ' 
also  the  treatises  of  Cleantb.es  and  Sphaerus  on  indi- 
vidual philosophers,  and  a  work  of  Panaetius  on  the 
schools  of  philosophy,  but  how  far  the  three  last- 
mentioned  bore  an  historical  character  is  doubtful. 
Nor  does  Epicurus  appear  to  have  given  any  historical 
accounts  of  the  earlier  philosophers.  From  his  school 
came  a  few  works  which  attempted  to  do  this;  an 
untrustworthy  treatise  on  the  Socratics  by  Idomeneus 
(about  270  B.C.);  a  <rvvaiya)ryr)  rwv  BoyfjiaTfov,  and  a  life 
of  Epicurus  by  Apollodorus  (about  120  B.C.) ;  a  crvvrafys 
TWV  <f)i\o(r6<f>a)v  by  Philodemus  (about  50  B.C.),  this 
last,  probably  a  mere  compilation,  from  which  the  two 
Herculanean  catalogues  of  the  Academic  and  Stoic  phi- 
losophers seem  to  have  been  taken.  Among  the  con- 
temporaries of  Philodemus  are  the  two  Magnesians, 
Demetrius  and  Diocles,  the  former  of  whom  wrote  on 
authors  of  the  same  name,  and  the  latter  on  the  lives 
of  the  philosophers ;  and  Apollonius  of  Tyre,  the  Stoic 
whose  life  of  Zeno  is  quoted.  Somewhat  earlier  in 
date  is  Alexander  Polyhistor,  who  wrote  a  history  of 
the  philosophic  schools  (<j>i\oa-6(j>a)v  StaSo^at),  and  an 
interpretation  of  the  Pythagorean  symbols.  Hippo- 
botus'  catalogue  of  the  philosophers-,  and  his  treatise 


13  INTRODUCTION.  [»8 


aipevEwv  appear  to  belong  also  to  about  the 
same  period.  From  the  first  century  of  our  era,  the 
history  and  doctrines  of  Pythagoras  were  continually 
expounded  in  the  Neo-Pythagorean  school  ;  for  example, 
by  Moderatus  and  Apollonius  of  Tyana,  60-80  A.D.,  and 
by  Nicomachus,  about  130  A.D.  But  these  expositions 
are  altogether  uncritical  and  without  historical  value. 
The  writings  of  Favorinus  (80  to  150  A.D.)  contain 
many  notices  of  the  history  of  the  philosophers,  and 
Eusebius  has  preserved  fragments  of  a  critical  survey  of 
the  philosophic  systems  by  Aristocles  the  Peripatetic 
(about  180  A.D.).  Indeed,  it  is  only  in  fragments,  and 
through  isolated  quotations,  that  the  great  majority  of 
the  works  hitherto  spoken  of  are  known  to  us,  and  of 
these  fragments  and  quotations  we  owe  a  considerable 
portion  to  a  single  work,  the  ten  books  of  Diogenes 
Laertius  on  the  lives  and  doctrines  of  celebrated  philo- 
sophers. For  however  carelessly  and  uncritically  this 
compilation,  probably  dating  from  the  second  quarter 
of  the  third  century  A.D.,  may  have  been  made,  the  in- 
formation it  contains  is  of  priceless  worth,  since  most 
of  the  more  ancient  sources  have  been  entirely  lost. 
This  information  is  as  a  rule  given  at  second  or  third 
hand,  but  very  often  with  the  names  of  the  authorities 
to  whom  Diogenes,  or  the  authors  transcribed  by  him, 
may  be  indebted  for  it.  Among  the  Neo-Platonists,  the 
learned  Porphyry  (about  232-304  A.D.)  has  done  good 
service  for  the  knowledge  of  the  older  philosophers, 
down  to  Plato,  by  his  commentaries,  and  also  by  his 
(j)i\6<ro(f)os  iaropia,  from  which  the  life  of  Pythagoras 
has  been  preserved.  The  copious  biography  of  Pytha- 


§8]        SOURCES.     ANCIENT  COMMENTARIES.        18 

goras  by  his  pupil  lamblichus  served  as  an  introduction 
to  a  dogmatic  work  by  the  same  author.  For  the  history 
of  the  Neo-Platonic  school,  the  chief  authority  is  (about 
400  A.D.)  Eunapius'  fiiot  fytXoaofywv  KOL  <ro(f)i(Trwv 
(Rhetoricians);  the  later  period  of  the  school  was 
treated  of  in  Damascius'  <£tXo<ro<£os  laropia  (about 
520  A.D.),  of  which  only  some  fragments  remain. 
Subsequently  to  550  A.D.,  Hesychius  of  Miletus  com- 
posed his  work  irspl  rwv  sv  TraiSsia  Sia\.a/jL-*lrdvT(ov9from 
which  the  articles  on  the  ancient  philosophers  in  Suidas' 
Lexicon  (between  1000  A.D.  and  1150  A.D.)  are  chiefly 
taken.  The  treatise,  however,  which  we  possess  under 
the  name  of  Hesychius  is  a  late  Byzantine  compilation 
from  Diogenes  and  Suidas,  as  is  also  the  so-called 
'Violarium'  of  the  Empress  Eudocia  (1060  to  1070 
A.D.),  probably  a  forgery  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

Among  the  sources  of  our  knowledge  of  the  ancient 
philosophers,  the  works  devoted  to  the  explanation  of 
their  writings  occupy  an  important  place.  At  how 
early  a  period  the  necessity  of  such  explanations  was 
felt  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  about  280  B.C.,  Grantor, 
the  Academic  philosopher,  commented  on  Plato's 
'Timaeus,'  the  Stoic  Cleanthes  (about  260  B.C.)  on 
the  treatise  of  Heracleitus,  and  that  Aristophanes 
of  Byzantium  (about  200  B.C.)  arranged  the  works 
of  Plato  in  trilogies.  But  the  most  flourishing  period 
of  the  commentators'  activity  first  commences  about 
the  middle  of  the  first  century  B.C.  At  this  time 
Andronicus  the  Rhodian,  the  editor  of  *  Aristotle,'  and 
Theophrastus  established  in  the  Peripatetic  school  the 
learned  study  of  Aristotle's  writings.  From  him 


14  INTRODUCTION.  [§  8 

down  to  Alexander  of  Aphrodisias,  the  renowned 
expositor,  stretches  a  long  series  of  men  who  dis- 
cussed these  writings  either  in  commentaries  or  in 
introductory  and  comprehensive  works.  This  example 
was  followed  by  the  Platonic  school.  Soon  after 
Andronicus,  first  Eudoms,  and  then  Dercyllides  and 
Thrasyllus  made  themselves  known  by  their  treatises 
on  Plato,  and  after  the  time  of  Plutarch  this  philo- 
sopher was  as  zealously  expounded  in  the  Platonic 
school  as  Aristotle  in  the  Peripatetic.  The  Neo- 
Platonists(and  individual  scholars  even  earlier)  devoted 
themselves  with  equal  energy  to  both,  until  the  sixth 
century.  Of  the  commentaries  that  have  come  down 
to  us,  those  of  Alexander  on  Aristotle's  *  Metaphysics,' 
and  of  Simplicius  (about  530  A.D.)  on  the  *  Physics,' and 
the  books  '  De  Cselo,'  are  of  conspicuous  value  for  the 
history  of  philosophy ;  next  to  these  come  the  remaining 
commentaries  of  the  same  writers,  and  those  of  Johannes 
Philoponus  (about  530  A.D.)  on  the  works  of  Aristotle, 
and  of  Proclus  (410  A.D.  to  485  A.D.)  on  Plato. 

§  4.  Modern  Aids. 

Of  modern  writings  on  Greek  philosophy,  only  those 
will  be  quoted  here  which  have  appeared  during  the 
last  two  centuries  ;  and  of  that  number,  only  such  as 
are  of  special  importance  in  the  history  of  our  science, 
or  of  practical  use  in  regard  to  its  study  at  the  present 
time.  As  a  foundation,  we  must  first  mention  Brucker*8 
'Historia  eritica  Philosophise '  (1742  ff. ;  Ancient 
Philosophy  is  treated  of  in  vols.  i.  and  ii.),  a  learned 
and  critical  work  of  conspicuous  worth,  though  its 


« 4]  MODERN  AIDS.  Ifi 

-tandpoint  of  historical  criticism  is  not  beyond  that  of 
its  time ;  and,  side  by  side  with  this,  the  appropriate  por- 
tions of  J.  A.  Fabricius'  'Bibliotheca  Grseca'  (1705  ff., 
considerably  enlarged  in  the  edition  of  Harless,  1790  ff.). 
At  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  and  beginning  of  the 
nineteenth  century,  the  history  of  philosophy  was 
treated  of  in  its  whole  extent  in  three  comprehensive 
works :  Tiedemann's  'Geistderspeculativen  Philosophic* 
(1791-1797);  Buhle's  *  Lehrbuch  der  GescWchte  der 
Philosophic*  (1796-1804);  and  Tennemann's  <Ge- 
schichte  der  Philosophic '  (1798-1819).  Each  of  these 
works  has  its  value ;  that  of  Tennemann  retained  its 
well-merited  reputation  the  longest,  in  spite  of  the 
one-sidedness  with  which  Kant  dominates  its  histo- 
rical judgment.  Next,  in  regard  to  Ancient  Philo- 
sophy, come  the  works  of  Meiners  ('  Geschichte  der 
Wissenschaften  in  Griechenland  und  Rom,'  1781  ff., 
&c.)  and  Fulleborn  ('  Beitrage,'  1791  ff.).  Soon, 
however,  the  influence  of  the  post-Kantian  philosophy 
asserted  itself,  and  ancient  science  began  to  be  treated 
in  a  new  spirit.  Schleiermacher's  treatises  on  various 
Greek  philosophers  ('  Sammtliche  Werke,  Zur  Phil.,* 
vols.  ii.  and  Hi.),  but  especially  the  introduction  and 
notes  to  his  translation  of  Plato  ('  Platen's  Werke,' 
1804-1828),  which  was  followed  after  his  death  by  his 
concise  and  suggestive  '  History  of  Philosophy,'  with 
its  original  points  of  view  (1839,  *  W.  W.  Z.  Phil.,'  vol. 
ii.  sec.  1) ;  and  Bockh's  writings  (the  most  important 
are~those  printed  in  vol.  iii.  of  the  'Kleine  Schrif- 
ten,'on  'Plato,'  'Life  of  Philolaus,'  &c.,  T819  ;  'Unter- 
suchungen  iiber  das  kosmische  System  des  Plato,'  1852) 


16  INTRODUCTION.  l§4 

gave  the  type  for  a  treatment  of  history,  entering 
more  deeply  into  the  special  character  of  the  anciem 
philosophers  and  the  inner  laboratories  of  their  thoughts. 
Hegel's  '  Vorlesungen '  on  the  History  of  Philosophy 
(published  after  his  death,  1833,  1840,  in  vols.  xiii.-xv. 
of  his  Works)  emphasise  the  dialectical  necessity  of  the 
evolution  of  the  later  philosophers  from  the  earlier, 
not  without  some  one-sidedness,  but  they  have  power- 
fully contributed  to  the  scientific  comprehension  and 
historical  criticism  of  the  philosophic  systems.  The 
meritorious  works  of  Ritter  (*  Gesch.  der  Phil.,'  vols. 
i.-iv.,  1829  f,  1836  f.)  and  Brandis  («  Handbuch 
der  Gesch.  der  Griechisch-R6m.  Phil.,'  3  Th.  in  six 
volumes,  1835-1866)  are  allied  with  Schleiermacher 
as  to  their  general  tendency.  To  mediate  between 
learned  inquiry  and  the  speculative  view  of  history, 
and  to  gain  a  knowledge  of  the  importance  and  inter- 
dependence of  the  individual  from  tradition  itself 
through  critical  sifting  and  historical  connection,  is 
the  task  proposed  to  itself  by  my  own  *  Philosophic 
der  Griechen'  (first  edition,  1844-1852;  third  edi- 
tion, 1869-1882 ;  fourth  edition  of  the  first  part, 
1876).  From  the  standpoint  of  the  school  of  Herbart, 
Striimpell,  in  a  more  concise  manner,  has  written  his 
'Geschichte  der  theoretischen  Philosophic  der  Griechen,' 
1 854,  and  '  Geschichte  der  praktischen  Philosophic  der 
Griechen  von  Aristoteles,'  1861.  Among  the  scholars  of 
other  countries,  by  whom  the  history  of  philosophy  in 
modern  times  has  been  advanced,  are  Victor  Cousin 
(1792-1867),  in  his  « Fragments  philosophiques,'  his 
'Introduction  &  1'histoire  de  la  Philosophic,'  and  hi; 


f  4]  MODERN  AIDS.  17 

'Hi?toire  Generate  de  la  Philosophic ;'  George  Grote 
(1794-1871),  in  portions  of  his  'History  of  Greece,' 
especially  vol.  viii.,  his  'Plato'  (1865),  and  the  un- 
finished 'Aristotle*  (1872).  Of  the  numerous  com- 
pendiums  which  deal  with  this  subject,  the  following 
may  be  mentioned:  Brandis,  'Gesch.  der  Entwick- 
lungen  der  Griech.  Phil.,'  1862-1864;  Bitter  and 
Preller  (subsequently  Preller  only),  'Historia  Philo- 
sophise Graeco-Romanae  ex  fontium  locis  contexta,' 
1838,  sixth  edition,  1879;  Schwegler,  'Gesch.  der 
Phil,  im  Umriss,'  1848,  eleventh  edition,  1882  ;  «  Gesch. 
der  Griech.  Phil.,'  edited  by  Kostlin,  third  edition, 
1882;  Ueberweg,  '  Grundriss  der  Gesch.  der  Phil.,' 
1  Theil,  1862,  sixth  edition,  1880 ;  E.  Erdmann,  *  Grund- 
riss der  Gesch.  der  Phil.,'  Theil  i.  1866,  eighth 
edition,  1878  ;  Lewes,  '  History  of  Philosophy,'  vol.  i 
1867;  J.  B.  Meyer, '  Leitfaden  zur  Gesch.  der  Phil., 
1882,  pp.  8-32.  Among  the  works  which  are  con- 
cerned with  the  history  of  special  philosophical  subjects, 
the  most  important  are  the  following :  Prantl,  '  Gesch 
d.  Logik  im  Abendland,' vol.  i.  1885  ; '  Lange,'  Gesch.  der 
Materialismus,'  Theil  i.,  second  edition,  1873,  fourth 
edition  1882 ;  Heinze,  *  Die  Lehre  vom  Logos  in  der 
Griech.  Phil.,'  1872 ;  Siebeck, '  Gesch.  der  Psychologic,' 
Theil  i.  Abth.  1  ;  'Die  Psychologic  vor  Aristoteles,' 
1880;  Ziegler,  'Gesch.  der  Ethik,'  1881;  L.Schmidt, 
•Die  Ethik  der  alten  Grieclienj*  1882;  Hildenbrand, 
'  Gesch.  und  System  der  Rechts-  und  Staatsphilosophie,' 
vol.  i  1860.  Diels  ('  Doxographi  Graeci,'  1 879)  has  edited 
the  Greek  doxographers  and  investigated  their  autho- 
rities ;  the  literature  of  the  Florilegia  is  discussed  by 


18  INTRODUCTION.  [« « 

Wachsmutn  (.'  Studien  zu  der  Griech.  Florilegien,' 
1882);  the  most  complete  collection  of  fragments  of 
the  ancient  philosophers  as  yet  made  is  that  of 
Mullach  ('Fragmenta  Philosophorum  Graec.,'  three 
parts,  1860,  1867,  1881).  The  most  important  mono- 
graphs on  particular  philosophers  and  their  works  will 
be  mentioned  in  the  proper  places. 

B.  HISTORICAL  INTRODUCTION. 

§  5.  Origin  of  Greek  Philosophy.    Its  supposed 
derivation  from  the  East. 

An  old  tradition  affirms  that  several  of  the  most 
important  of  the  Greek  philosophers — Pythagoras, 
Democritus,  Plato,  and  others — owe  their  scientific 
doctrines  to  Eastern  nations.  Even  in  the  time  of 
Herodotus  the  Egyptians  tried  to  represent  themselves 
to  the  Greeks  as  the  fathers  of  the  Greek  religion,  and 
from  the  third  century  before  Christ  and  onwards  we 
meet  with  the  opinion,  perhaps  first  introduced  by 
Orientals,  but  readily  adopted  and  further  developed 
by  the  Greeks,  that  the  whole  Greek  philosophy,  or  at 
any  rate  many  of  its  most  influential  doctrines  and 
systems,  came  from  the  East.  The  Jews  of  the  Alex- 
andrian school,  from  the  second  century  before  Christ, 
get  up  a  similar  claim  for  the  prophets  and  sacred 
writings  of  their  nation ;  and  the  Christian  scholars  from 
Clement  and  Eusebius  till  after  the  close  of  the  Middle 
Ages  supported  them  in  it.  These  Jewish  fables  indeed 
are  now  generally  abandoned  ;  but  the  theory  of  an 
Eastern  origin  of  Greek  philosophy  as  such  continues 


§  ft]        GREEK  PHILOSOPHY  AND  THE  EAST.        19 

to  find  advocates.  Its  most  strenuous  defenders  in 
modern  times  are  Both  ('Gesch.  der  abendl.  Phil.' 
vol.  i.  1846,  1862  ;  vol.  ii.  1858)  and  Gladisch  (the 
latter  in  a  series  of  works  since  1841 ;  cf.  Zeller's  « Pre- 
Socratic  Philosophy,'  vol.  i.  p.  35). 

There  is  no  doubt  that  the  forefathers  of  the  Hel- 
lenes brought  from  their  Asiatic  abodes  into  their  uew 
home,  together  with  the  groundwork  of  their  language, 
certain  religious  and  ethical  presentations  akin  to  those 
of  the  other  Indo-Gennanic  peoples ;  in  this  new  home 
itself  they  experienced  for  centuries  the  influence  of 
their  L-stern  neighbours,  especially  the  Phoenicians,  and 
through  the  effects  of  such  influence  the  later  Hellenic 
nationality  developed  itself  out  of  the  Pelasgic.  .We 
may  also  give  credit  to  the  tradition  which  says  that 
the  Hellenes  afterwards  received  the  first  elements  of 
their  mathematical  and  astronomical  knowledge  from 
the  East.  But  that  they  borrowed  philosophic  doc- 
trines and  methods  from  thence  (irrespective  of  certain 
late  phenomena)  cannot  be  proved.  Often  as  this 
assertion  is  made  by  authors  of  the  Alexandrian  and 
post-Alexandrian  period,  not  one  of  them  can  show 
that  he  has  taken  it  from  a  trustworthy  tradition,  or 
from  one  that  goes  back  to  the  facts  themselves.  On 
the  contrary  we  are  confronted  with  the  remarkable 
phenomenon  that  the  authorities  become  more  and 
more  silent  the  nearer  we  approach  the  period  of  the 
supposed  events,  and  are  more  and  more  copious  the 
farther  we  recede  from  them ;  and  that  in  proportion 
as  the  Greeks  become  acquainted  with  more  distant 
Oriental  nations,  so  do  the  supposed  instructors  of  their 


90  INTRODUCTION.  »  6 

ancient  philosophers  increase  in  number.  This  state 
of  things  decidedly  indicates  that  the  later  statements 
are  not  derived  from  historical  recollection,  are  not 
testimonies,  but  mere  conjectures  If  on  Hie  other 
hand  we  seek  to  infer  the  dependency  of  Greek  philo- 
sophy on  Oriental  speculations  from  their  internal 
similarity,  this  appearance  vanishes  as  soon  as  m  regard 
them  both  in  their  historical  definitwness,  and  ascribe 
neither  to  the  Greeks  nor  the  Orientals  what  later 
interpretation  has  introduced  into  tneir  dc?trines. 
Their  coincidence  then  is  seen  to  be  confined  to  points 
in  regard  to  which  we  do  not  require  the  explanation 
that  the  Greek  philosophers  wholly  or  partially  derived 
their  doctrines  from  Oriental  sources.  Tiiis  theory  is 
not  merely  indemonstrable,  but  has  weighty  and  posi- 
tive reasons  against  it.  The  Eastern  nations  with 
whom  the  Greeks  down  to  the  time  of  Alexander  came 
in  contact,  so  far  as  our  knowledge  respecting  them 
extends,  had  indeed  mythologies  and  mythical  cos- 
mogonies, but  none  of  them  possessed  a  philosophy, 
none  made  an  attempt  at  a  natural  explanation  of 
things,  which  could  have  served  the  Greek  thinkers  as 
the  source  or  pattern  of  their  own  ;  and  if  even  some- 
thing of  philosophy  had  been  found  among  them, 
the  difficulties  arising  from  language  would  have  put 
great  hindrances  in  the  way  of  its  transfer  to  the 
Hellenes.  Greek  philosophy,  on  the  other  hand,  bears 
an  altogether  national  stamp.  Even  in  its  most  ancient 
representatives  it  displays  none  of  the  phenomena 
which  elsewhere  universally  appear  when  a  nation 
derives  iU  science  from  without ;  no  conflict  of  ind*- 


i  6]        GREEK  fKlLOSOPHY  AND  THE  EAST.         31 

genons  with  alien  elements,  no  use  of  uncomprehended 
formulae,  no  trace  of  slavish  appropriation  and  imitation 
of  the  traditional.  And  while  among  the  Orientals 
science  is  entirely  a  monopoly  of  the  priesthood,  and 
therefore  dependent  on  priestly  institutions  and  tradi- 
tions, not  only  was  Greek  philosophy  from  its  very 
commencement  wholly  free  and  self-dependent,  but  the 
Greek  people  were  more  and  more  absolutely  devoid 
of  any  special  priestly  class  or  hierarchy  the  farther  we 
remount  towards  their  earliest  antiquity.  If  lastly,  we 
take  the  older  and  more  trustworthy  evidence,  Aristotle 
('Metaph.  i.  1,  9^1  b.  23)  allows  that  the  Egyptians 
were  the  discoverers  of  the  mathematical  sciences,  but 
he  never  mentions  Egyptian  or  Oriental  philosophemes, 
though  he  carefully  notices  all  traces  of  later  doctrines 
in  the  earlier  philosophers.  In  the  time  of  Herodotus 
even  the  Egyptian  priests  do  not  as  yet  seem  to  have 
thought  that  philosophical  knowledge  might  have 
come  to  the  Greeks  from  them.  Democritus  (Clemens, 
*  Strom.'  i.  304  A)  allows  no  precedence  to  the  Egyptian 
sages  even  in  geometry,  before  himself,  and  Plato 
('  Rep.'  iv.  435  E  ;  «  Laws,'  v.  747  C)  ascribes  to  the 
Egyptians  and  Phoenicians  TO  ^iKo^prj^aroVy  and  to  the 
Hellenes  TO  faXojjLaOes  as  their  characteristic  quality. 


f  6.  Native  Sources  of  Greek  Philosophy. 

The  real  origins  of  Greek  philosophy  are  to  be  found 
in  the  happy  endowments  of  the  Greek  nation,  in  the 
incitements  afforded  by  its  situation  and  history,  and 
the  course  taken  by  its  religious,  moral,  political,  and 


33  INTRODUCTION.  t8  « 

artistic  development  down  to  the  period  in  which  we 
discover  the  first  attempts  at  philosophic  inquiry.  No 
other  nation  of  antiquity  was  endowed  from  the  very 
commencement  with  so  many  and  various  advantages 
of  disposition  as  the  Hellenic,  in  none  do  we  find  prac- 
tical address  and  active  power  united  with  so  delicate  a 
feeling  for  the  beautiful  and  such  a  deep  and  keen 
thirst  for  knowledge,  the  healthiest  realism  with  so 
much  ideality,  the  acutest  perception  of  individuality 
with  such  a  remarkable  genius  for  the  orderly  and 
agreeable  combination  of  individuals,  the  shaping  of  a 
beautiful  and  self-consistent  whole.  To  this  natural 
temperament  must  be  added  the  favourable  character 
of  the  position  of  their  country,  which  afforded  stimulus 
and  resources  of  the  most  diverse  kinds,  but  only 
bestowed  its  gifts  on  those  who  knew  how  to  earn  them 
by  their  own  exertions.  With  their  settlements  on  the 
bridge  connecting  Europe  and  Asia,  in  islands  and  on 
richly  developed  coasts  of  moderate  fertility,  the  Greeks 
were  marked  out  for  the  liveliest  intercourse  with  each 
other  and  with  their  neighbours ;  by  some  of  the  latter, 
so  long  as  these  retained  their  superiority  in  power  and 
culture,  they  were  considerably  influenced  (vide  supra, 
p.  19),  but  they  also  knew  how  to  free  themselves  in 
time  from  this  influence,  to  conquer  or  Hellenise  the 
strangers,  and  to  open  for  their  own  nationality  a  wide 
field  of  operation  through  extensive  colonisation.  Thus 
in  the  small  commonwealths  of  the  Hellenic  cities,  the 
foundations  of  a  culture  unique  in  itself,  and  in  its 
historical  effects,  were  early  developed.  Those  views 
oi  Nature  from  which  the  worship  of  the  gods  in  the 


!  6]       GREEK  PHILOSOPHY  AND  RELIGION.          23 

pre-Hellenic  period  arose  were  ethically  deepened  and 
artistically  transformed ;  the  gods  were  raised  to  moral 
powers,  the  ideals  of  human  activities  and  conditions, 
and  if  religion  as  such  (in  the  mysteries  as  little  as  in 
the  public  worship)  did  not  transcend  the  limits  of  an 
anthropomorphic  polytheism,  it  contained  living  and 
powerful  germs,  which  needed  only  to  be  developed  in 
order  to  do  so.  And  because  it  was  more  concerned 
with  worship  than  doctrine ;  because  it  possessed  no  uni- 
form and  universally  acknowledged  dogmatic  system, 
but  only  a  mythology  handed  down  by  tradition  with 
manifold  variations,  and  kept  by  the  active  imagination 
of  the  people  and  the  poets  in  a  constant  state  of  flux ; 
because,  above  all,  it  had  no  regularly  organised  priest- 
hood endowed  with  external  power — for  all  these  reasons, 
despite  the  attacks  to  which  an  Anaxagoras,  a  Prota- 
goras, a  Socrates  were  subjected  (Aristotle  is  scarcely  to 
be  included  here),  it  opposed,  generally  speaking,  no 
obstacles  to  the  free  movement  and  progress  of  thought 
among  the  Greeks  at  all  comparable  to  those  which 
had  to  be  combated  in  the  Middle  Ages  and  in  the 
Oriental  kingdoms.  The  same  freedom  reigns  in  the 
moral  life  and  civil  institutions  of  the  Hellenic  people, 
and  in  Athens  and  the  Ionian  colonies,  precisely  those 
portions  which  did  the  most  for  its  science,  it  asserted 
itself  to  an  extent  that  was  of  great  importance  for 
scientific  labours.  No  less  important,  however,  in  this 
respect  was  the  second  fundamental  feature  of  Greek 
life,  that  respect  for  custom  and  law,  that  subordination 
of  the  individual  to  the  whole,  without  which  the  repub- 
lican constitutions  of  the  Greek  cities  could  not  have 


24  INTRODUCTION.  »  « 

subsisted.  From  the  freedom  with  which  men  moved 
in  all  the  relations  of  life,  scientific  thought  derived  the 
independence  and  boldness  which  we  admire  even  in 
the  most  ancient  Greek  philosophers;  the  taste  for 
order  and  law  which  had  developed  itself  in  civil  life 
demanded  also  that  in  the  theoretic  view  of  the  world 
the  individual  should  be  comprehended  in  a  whole  and 
made  dependent  upon  the  laws"  of  that  whole.  How 
essentially,  moreover,  the  formal  training  of  thought  and 
speech  must  have  been  advanced  by  the  animated  move- 
ment and  numerous  claims  of  civil  life,  and  how  greatly 
scientific  activity  must  have  thereby  benefited,  may 
easily  be  seen.  A  similar  service  was  rendered  by  poetry, 
which  in  its  epic,  lyric,  and  didactic  forms  was  so  richly 
developed  in  the  four  centuries  preceding  the  first 
beginnings  of  Greek  philosophy;  it  embraced  the 
theological,  cosmological,  and  ethical  intuitions  of  the 
Greek  tribes  in  pictures  and  sayings  which  were  re- 
garded as  the  expression  of  universally  recognised  truth 
by  the  contemporary  and  succeeding  period  ;  and  thus 
indicated  to  the  rising  philosophy  the  presuppositions  it 
had  to  consider,  and  either  endorse  or  reject. 

§  7.  The  Development  of  Greek  Thought  before  the 
Sixth  Century  B.C. 

If  then  we  survey  the  position  to  which  Greek 
thought  had  attained  in  the  directions  indicated,  pre- 
vious to  the  sixth  century  before  Christ,  we  shall  find 
at  first  theological  presentations  of  a  general  kind,  as 
is  natural,  moving  upon  the  soil  of  the  traditional 


1  7]     GREEK  PHILOSOPHY  AND  COSMOGONIES.    26 

Homeric  and  Hesiodic  mythology.  Nevertheless,  among 
the  poets  of  the  seventh  and  sixth  centuries,  the  traces 
are  perceptible  of  a  gradual  purification  of  the  idea 
of  God,  for  Zeus  as  the  uniform  representative  and 
protector  of  the  moral  order  of  the  world  begins  to 
come  forward  more  prominently  from  among  the  mul- 
tiplicity of  gods.  On  the  one  hand  (Solon.  *  Fr.'  13, 
17,  f.)  the  difference  between  divine  and  human  justice 
is  acknowledged,  but  on  the  other  (Theognis,  about  540, 
v.  373)  doubts  are  expressed  of  the  latter,  which  could 
only  lead  to  a  critical  state  of  mind  in  regard  to  the 
traditional  ideas.  But  the  need  of  worthier  conceptions 
of  the  Deity  first  asserted  itself  more  definitely  and 
powerfully  in  the  poets  of  the  fifth  century,  when  philo- 
sophy had  already  commenced  its  attacks  upon  the 
popular  polytheism.  As  to  cosmological  theories,  their 
groundwork  is  the  « Theogony '  of  Hesiod,  from  which 
the  meagre  fragments  of  some  other  expositions  (those 
of  Epimenides  and  Acusilaus),  and  of  the  most  an- 
cient Orphic  Theogony  used  by  Plato,  Aristotle,  and 
Eudemus,  are  not  far  removed ;  while  other  Orphic 
Theogonies  better  known  to  us,  with  their  theological 
syncretism  and  pantheism,  unmistakably  belong  to  the 
post  -Aristotelian  period.  Nevertheless,  the  ideas  and 
reflections  which  in  these  ancient  cosmogonies  combine 
to  form  a  representation  of  the  origin  of  the  world  are 
of  a  very  simple  description,  and  the  question  of  the 
natural  causes  of  things  is  not  as  yet  entertained. 
Pherecyde?  of  Syros  (about  540  B.C.)  approaches  it 
somewhat  more  closely.  He  describes  Zeus,  Chronos, 
and  Chthon  as  the  first  and  everlasting,  and  the  earth 


26  INTRODUCTION.  ft  * 

as  clothed  by  Zeus  in  its  many- coloured  garment ;  he 
also  speaks  of  a  conquest  of  Ophioneus  by  Chronos  and 
the  gods.  Thus  his  exposition  seems  to  be  based  upon 
the  thought  that  the  formation  of  the  world  is  a  con- 
sequence of  the  operation  of  the  heavenly  upon  the 
terrestrial,  and  that  in  this  process  the  unregulated 
forces  of  nature  were  only  gradually  overcome.  But 
the  mythical  form  of  representation  conceals  thoughts 
under  enigmatical  symbols,  and  that  which  ought  to  be 
explained  by  its  natural  causes  still  appears  throughout 
as  the  uncompreh ended  work  of  the  gods.  Among  the 
Greeks,  as  everywhere  else,  the  universally  recognised 
moral  laws  are  referred  to  the  will  of  the  gods,  and  their 
inviolability  is  founded  on  the  belief  in  Divine  retribu- 
tive justice.  This  belief  gained  considerably  in  power 
from  the  time  that  the  ideas  concerning  a  future  state 
entered  its  service,  and  the  shadowy  existence  in  Hades, 
beyond  which  the  belief  in  immortality  of  the  Homeric 
period  never  went,  was  filled  with  greater  life  and  mean- 
ing, through  the  doctrine  of  a  future  retribution.  But 
though  this  change  had  gradually  been  taking  place 
since  the  eighth  and  seventh  centuries,  together  with 
the  increasing  spread  of  the  mysteries — and  the  Orphic- 
Dionysiac  mysteries  especially  contributed  to  it  through 
the  dogma  of  the  transmigration  of  souls — it  would 
nevertheless  seem  that  the  predominant  mode  of 
thought  was  not  deeply  affected  by  the  belief  in  a 
future  life,  until  towards  the  end  of  the  sixth  century, 
and  that  it  was  itself  primarily  only  a  means  for  recom- 
mending dedications,  through  hope  and  fear ;  it  was 
under  the  influence  of  Pythagoreanism  that  the  belief 


§  7]      PHILOSOPHY  AND  GNOMIC  MORALITY.      VI 

appears  first  to  have  been  more  universally  spread,  and 
turned  to  account  in  a  purer  moral  tendency.  With 
this  religious  treatment  of  ethical  questions,  however, 
it  was  inevitable  in  so  lively  and  capable  a  people  as 
the  Greeks  that  the  development  of  intelligent  moral 
reflection  should  go  on  side  by  side.  The  traces  of  this 
may  be  followed  from  the  Homeric  portrayals  of  cha- 
racter and  moral  sayings,  and  Hesiod's  practical  rules  of 
life,  through  the  fragments  of  the  later  poets  ;  they  are 
most  marked  in  the  Gnomic  poets  of  the  sixth  century, 
in  Solon,  Phocylides,  and  Theognis.  The  development 
of  such  a  tendency  in  this  period  is  also  indicated  by 
the  fact  that  most  of  the  men  reckoned  among  the  so- 
called  Seven  Wise  Men  exhibit  it.  The  story  of  the 
Wise  Men  (which  we  first  meet  with,  as  then  universally 
recognised,  in  Plato, '  Protagoras,'  343  A)  is  for  the  rest 
entirely  unhistorical,  not  merely  as  to  the  statements 
concerning  the  tripod,  their  maxims,  their  meetings 
and  letters,  but  also  as  to  the  theory  that  seven  men  were 
acknowledged  by  their  contemporaries  to  be  the  wisest. 
Even  their  names  are  very  variously  given :  we  are 
acquainted  with  twenty-two  belonging  to  widely  dif- 
ferent periods.  Only  four  are  to  be  found  in  all  the 
enumerations,  viz. :  Thales,  Bias,  Pittacus.  and  Solon. 
Of  the  rest  those  most  frequently  mentioned  are 
Cleobulus,  Myson,  Chilon,  Periander,  and  Anacharsis. 
The  connection  of  this  practical  wisdom  with  the 
beginnings  of  Greek  science  is  shown  by  the  signifi- 
cant fact  that  the  same  man  stands  at  the  head  of 
the  seven  who  opens  the  series  of  Greek  physicists. 


28  INTRODUCTION,  [8 « 

§  8.  Character  and  Development  of  Greek  Philosophy. 

As  a  product  of  the  Hellenic  spirit,  Greek  philosophy 
exhibits  the  same  characteristic  features ;  it  accompanies 
the  development  of  that  spirit  with  its  own,  becomes 
an  increasingly  important  factor  in  that  development, 
and,  after  the  loss  of  political  independence,  the  leading 
power  in  the  life  of  the  Greek  people.  Having  grown 
strong  in  practical  life,  at  the  awakening  of  scientific 
necessity,  thought  first  turns  to  the  consideration  of 
the  world,  of  which  the  Greek  felt  himself  a  part,  and 
in  which  he  was  already  accustomed  through  his  re- 
ligion to  adore  the  most  immediate  original  revelation 
of  the  divine  powers.  It  does  this  with  the  simple 
self-confidence  which  is  so  natural  to  early  inquiry 
before  it  is  acquainted  with  the  difficulties  awaiting  it  or 
discouraged  by  disappointments,  and  especially  natural 
to  a  people  like  the  Greeks,  who  were  so  happy  and  so 
much  at  home  in  the  world  around  them,  and  stood,  in 
the  main,  on  such  familiar  terms  with  their  gods.  Greek 
philosophy,  therefore,  in  its  first  period  was  in  respect 
to  its  object  a  philosophy  of  nature ;  for  its  essential 
interest  lay  in  the  inquiry  into  the  origin  and 
causes  of  the  universe.  The  problem  of  the  nature 
and  mission  of  man  was  treated  in  an  isolated 
manner,  and  rather  in  a  popular  than  a  scientific  form. 
Further,  this  philosophy  was,  in  respect  to  its  pro- 
cedure, a  dogmatism :  i.e.  it  seeks  to  obtain  a  theory 
of  the  objective  world  before  it  has  given  account  to 
itself  of  the  problem  and  conditions  of  scientific  know- 
ledge. Finally,  in  its  results  it  is  realistic,  and  even 


S  8]  DEVELOPMENT  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  29 

materialistic ;  not  until  the  end  of  this  period  was  the 
difference  between  spiritual  and  corporeal  brought  to 
consciousness  by  Anaxagoras.  Already,  however,  in- 
terest had  begun  to  be  diverted  from  this  wholly 
physical  inquiry,  in  connection  with  the  change  which, 
since  the  Persian  War  had  taken  place  in  the  conditions 
and  needs  of  the  Greeks;  the  Sophists  destroy  by 
their  Sceptic  and  Eristic  doctrines  belief  in  the 
cognisability  of  objects,  and  require  in  its  stead  a 
knowledge  that  is  practically  useful  and  subservient  to 
the  ends  of  the  subject;  but  Socrates  was  the  first  to 
lay  a  new  foundation,  not  only  for  this  practical  philo- 
sophy, but  for  philosophy  in  general. 

By  Socrates,  Plato,  and  Aristotle,  Greek  philosophy 
was  brought  to  its  scientific  climax.  The  consideration 
of  the  problem  and  conditions  of  knowledge  leads  to  the 
development  of  logic ;  physics  are  supplemented  on  the 
one  side  by  ethics,  and  on  the  other  by  metaphysics 
(Plato's  « Dialectic,'  and  Aristotle's  '  First  Philosophy')  ; 
the  formation,  classification,  and  combination  of  con- 
cepts constitutes  the  fixed  nucleus  of  the  scientific 
method  ;  the  immaterial  essence  of  things  which  is  the 
object  of  philosophic  thought,  the  idea  or  the  form  of 
the  idea  opposes  itself  to  its  phenomenon  as  a  higher 
reality,  the  spirit  is  distinguished  as  thinking  essence 
from  its  body,  and  as  man  acknowledges  it  as  his  proper 
task  to  develop  this  higher  part  of  himself,  and  to 
govern  the  lower  by  means  of  it,  so  the  creative 
activity"  of  nature  is  directed  to  bringing  the  form,  as 
the  end  of  its  production,  to  its  manifestation  in  matter. 
But  though  this  was  an  advance  not  only  beyond  the 


30  INTRODUCTION.  [$  « 

philosophy  of  the  time,  but  also  beyond  the  general 
standpoint  of  the  Hellenic  view  of  the  world,  though 
the  harmony  of  the  inner  and  the  outer,  the  simple 
unity  of  spirit  with  nature  which  had  formed  the 
original  presupposition  for  the  classic  beauty  of  Greek 
life  was  interrupted,  this  change  had  nevertheless  been 
preparing  in  the  development  of  the  Greek  nation,  and 
in  it  the  features  which  distinguish  ancient  philosophy 
from  modern  are  undeniable.  In  the  concept-philosophy 
of  Socrates  and  his  successors  a  forward  movement  was 
made  in  the  scientific  sphere,  similar  to  that  achieved 
by  the  plastic  art  and  poetry  of  the  fifth  century  in 
the  region  of  art;  out  of  the  multiplicity  of  pheno- 
mena the  common  traits,  the  unchangeable  forms  of 
things  were  taken  as  the  essential  element  in  them ;  in 
these  were  seen  the  proper  object  of  artistic  exposition 
and  of  scientific  knowledge ;  science  and  art  coincide 
in  their  common  direction  towards  the  ideal.  This 
idealism,  even  in  Plato,  does  not  bear  the  modern 
subjective  character;  the  forms  of  things  are  not 
products  of  thought  either  divine  or  human ;  they 
stand  in  plastic  objectivity,  as  prototypes  of  things, 
over  against  the  spirit  which  contemplates  them.  Far 
as  the  ancient  Greek  standpoint  was  transcended  by 
the  ethics  of  Socrates,  and  still  more  of  Plato,  the  latter 
nevertheless  remained  true  to  the  aesthetic  as  well  as 
the  political  character  of  Greek  morality ;  and  though 
Aristotle  by  his  preference  for  scientific  activity  goes 
beyond  this,  his  doctrine  of  virtue  is  wholly  Greek ; 
he,  too,  upholds  the  connection  of  ethics  with  politics, 
the  lofty  contempt  of  material  work  for  the  purposes  of 


S  »]  DEVELOPMENT  OF  PHILOSOPHY.  8} 

gain,  and  that  opposition  of  Hellenes  and  barbarians, 
the  strongest  expression  of  which  is  his  defence  of 
slavery.  The  stricter  conception  of  personality  is 
wanting  in  Plato  and  Aristotle,  and  its  rights  are  very 
imperfectly  recognised  by  them,  especially  by  Plato. 
The  study  of  nature  is  not  only  pursued  with  the 
liveliest  interest  by  Aristotle,  but  even  Plato  is  not 
hindered  by  his  idealism  from  intense  admiration  ol 
the  beauty  and  divinity  of  the  visible  world ;  and  he 
and  his  disciple  are  agreed  in  their  conviction  of  the 
adaptation  of  means  to  end  in  nature,  in  that  aesthetic 
view  and  worship  of  nature  which  clearly  show  the 
reaction  of  those  intuitions  whose  most  ancient  product 
was  the  Greek  natural  religion. 

An  important  change  took  place  in  philosophy,  as 
in  the  whole  sphere  of  Greek  thought,  after  the  end 
of  the  fourth  century,  under  the  influence  of  the  con- 
ditions brought  about  by  Alexander's  conquests.  The 
taste  for  natural  investigation  and  purely  theoretic 
inquiry  unmistakably  retrograded ;  side  by  side  with 
the  Academy  and  the  Peripatetic  schools,  and  before 
long  decidedly  preponderating  over  them,  appeared  the 
Stoics  and  Epicureans,  who  placed  the  centre  of  gravity 
of  philosophy  in  Ethics  ;  while  in  Physics  they  allied 
themselves  to  the  pre-Socratic  systems,  appropriating 
and  developing  from  these,  however,  for  the  most  part 
only  those  elements  which  bore  upon  the  moral  and- 
religious  view  of  the  world.  Ethics  themselves  among 
the  Stoics  and  Epicureans  have  the  character  partly  of 
individualism,  partly  of  an  abstract  cosmopolitanism ; 
widely  as  those  philosophers  differ  from  each  other  in 


39  INTRODUCTION.  [f « 

many  respects,  both  schools  require  elevation  above  the 
limits  of  nationality,  independence  of  all  things  exter- 
nal, the  self-satisfaction  of  the  wise  man  in  his  inner 
life.  On  these  points  the  contemporary  sceptics  are 
likewise  in  harmony  with  them,  but  they  sought  to 
attain  the  same  practical  end  by  another  road,  through 
entire  abandonment  of  knowledge.  From  the  inter- 
course of  these  schools  with  each  other  and  with  their 
predecessors  after  the  second  half  of  the  second 
century  B.C.,  a  reaction  set  in  against  the  scepticism  of 
the  New  Academy:  namely,  that  eclecticism  which 
was  strongest  in  the  Academy,  but  likewise  found 
entrance  among  the  Stoics  and  Peripatetics,  while  in 
the  school  of  ^Enesidemus  scepticism  acquired  a  new 
centre,  and  among  the  Neo-Pythagoreans  and  the 
Platonists  connected  with  them  the  eclectic  and 
sceptical  tendencies  of  the  time  unite  to  form  a  half- 
Oriental  philosophy  of  revelation,  developing  itself 
partly  on  Greek  soil  and  partly  on  that  of  Judaic  Hel- 
lenism. During  the  first  centuries  after  Christ  this 
mode  of  thought  increasingly  spread ;  and  in  the 
middle  of  the  third  it  was  developed  by  Plotinus  as 
Neo-Platonism  into  a  comprehensive  system,  which 
overcame  all  others  or  adopted  them  into  itself.  With 
the  dissolution  of  the  Neo-Platonic  School  in  the  sixth 
century  Greek  philosophy  disappears  as  a  distinct 
phenomenon  from  the  theatre  of  history,  and  only 
continues  to  exist  in  combination  with  foreign 
elements  in  the  service  of  a  new  form  of  culture  in 
the  science  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  of  modern  times. 
It  is  undeniable  that  this  development  led  Greek 


§8]     DEVELOPMENT  OF  GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  33 

thought  further  and  further  from  its  original  starting- 
points.  But  certain  important  features  still  remain  to 
show  that  we  are  always  on  Greek  soil.  Abrupt  as  is  the 
opposition  in  which  reason  and  sense  are  placed  by  the 
ethics  of  the  Stoics,  life  according  to  nature  continues 
to  be  their  watchword :  in  physics  the  Stoics  went  back 
from  the  Platonic- Aristotelian  dualism  to  the  hylozoism 
of  Heracleitus;  by  their  teleological  view  of  the 
universe  they  approximate  to  the  anthropomorphism  of 
the  popular  religion,  and  in  their  theology  they  under- 
took the  defence  of  the  same  notions  with  which  science 
had  in  truth  long  since  broken.  Epicurus,  by  his 
mechanical  physics,  sets  himself  in  the  most  marked 
opposition  to  the  popular  belief  as  well  as  to  the 
teleological  explanation  of  nature ;  but  his  aesthetic 
needs  oblige  him  to  adopt  a  new  though  inadequate 
doctrine  of  the  gods;  and  if  in  his  ethics  he  dis- 
cards the  political  element  of  ancient  Greek  morality 
more  completely  than  the  Stoics,  the  harmony  of  the 
sensible  and  spiritual  life,  which  is  his  practical  ideal, 
approximates  on  that  account  more  nearly  to  the 
original  Hellenic  view.  The  sceptical  schools,  also,  are 
not  far  from  that  view  in  their  practical  principles, 
while  on  the  other  hand  they  accept  the  impossibility 
of  knowledge  as  a  natural  destiny  with  a  placidity 
which  is  no  longer  so  easy  in  the  Christian  period. 
But  even  the  phenomenon  which  announces  most 
clearly  the  transition  from  the  Greek  world  to  the 
Christian,  the  Neo- Pythagorean  and  Neo-Platonic 
speculation,  makes  its  connection  with  the  ancient 
mode  of  thought  plainly  perceptible.  Though  it  places 


M  INTRODUCTION.  [|8 

the  visible  world  far  below  the  invisible,  the  former  is 
still  regarded  as  filled  with  divine  powers,  as  a 
manifestation,  perfect  in  its  kind,  of  the  higher  world. 
The  beauty  of  the  world  is  defended  against  the 
Christian's  contempt  for  Nature  and  its  eternity  against 
the  theory  of  a  creation ;  and  those  orders  of  supei  - 
human  essences  in  whom  the  divine  powers  descend  to 
the  world,  and  with  whose  assistance  man  is  to  raise 
himself  to  the  Deity,  are  the  metaphysical  counterpart 
of  the  popular  polytheism,  of  which  these  philosopher? 
were  the  last  champions. 


FIEST  PEEIOD. 

THE  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY. 

§  9.  Course  of  its  Development. 

THE  first  attempt  among  the  Greeks  at  a  scientific 
explanation  of  the  world  was  made  by  Thales  the 
Milesian,  who  was  followed  by  his  countrymen  Anaxi- 
mander  and  Anaximenes,  and  later  by  Diogenes  of 
Apollonia  and  other  representatives  of  the  ancient 
Ionian  school.  Through  the  lonians,  Pythagoras  and 
Xenopha^es,  these  endeavours  were  transplanted  to 
Lower  Italy  and  carried  on  with  such  independent 
inquiry  that  from  each  of  them  there  arose  a  new 
school.  These  three  most  ancient  schools,  whose 
origin  dates  from  the  sixth  century  before  Christ, 
agree  only  herein,  that  in  regard  to  the  causes  of 
things  which  science  has-  to  point  out,  they  think 
primarily  of  their  substantial  causes — i.e.  that  from 
which  they  arose,  and  in  which,  according  to  their 
essential  nature,  they  consist ;  but  they  do  not  as  yet 
definitely  face  the  problem  of  explaining  origin,  decay, 
and  change  as  such,  and  of  discovering  the  universal 
cause  of  these  phenomena.  Thus  the  ancient  Ionian 
philosophers  inquire  of  what  matter  the  world  was 
formed  and  in  what  way  the  world  arose  from  it.  The 
Pythagoreans  seek  the  essence  of  which  things  consist 
in  number,  and  derive  their  existence  and  qualities 


86  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§« 

from  the  fixed  and  numerically  determined  regularity 
of  phenomena.  The  Eleatic  philosophy,  starting 
from  the  unity  of  the  world,  through  Parmenides 
recognises  its  essence  in  Being  as  such ;  and  by  un- 
conditionally excluding  all  Non-being  from  the  con- 
ception of  Being,  declares  the  multiplicity  of  things 
and  motion  to  be  unthinkable. 

A  new  departure  of  natural  philosophical  inquiry 
begins  with  Heracleitus.  In  asserting  that  in  the 
ceaseless  change  of  matter  and  the  combinations  of 
matter  there  is  nothing  permanent  except  the  law  or 
this  change,  he  proposed  to  his  successors  the  problem 
of  explaining  this  phenomenon  itself,  of  stating  the 
reason  of  change  and  motion.  Empedocles,  Leucippus, 
and  Anaxagoras  attempted  this  by  reducing  all  Be- 
coming and  all  change  to  the  combination  and  separa- 
tion of  underived,  imperishable,  and  in  themselves 
unchangeable  material  substances,  and  thereby  deriving 
Becoming  itself  from  one  original  Being,  which  differed 
indeed  from  the  Being  of  Parmenides  in  respect  of  its 
multiplicity  and  divisibility  but  had  otherwise  the 
same  essential  qualities.  These  primitive  substances 
are  conceived  by  Empedocles  as  qualitatively  distin- 
guished from  each  other,  limited  as  to  number,  and 
divisible  to  infinity;  by  Leucippus  as  homogeneous  in 
quality,  unlimited  in  number,  and  indivisible ;  by 
Anaxagoras  as  different  in  quality,  unlimited  in  number, 
and  divisible  to  infinity.  In  order  to  explain  motion,  on 
which  all  combination  and  division  of  substances  is 
based,  Empedocles  annexes  moving  forces  to  the 
elements  in  a  mythical  form;  Leucippus  and  Democritut 


$»]  COURSE  OF  ITS  DEVELOPMENT.  87 

remove  the  atoms  into  empty  space ;  lastly,  Anaxagoras 
takes  refuge  in  the  world-forming  Spirit. 

Here  the  standpoint  hitherto  occupied  by  physics 
is  in  point  of  fact  transcended ;  it  was  abandoned  in 
principle  by  the  Sophistic  doctrine.  This  denies  all 
possibility  of  knowledge,  restricts  philosophy  to  the 
questions  of  practical  life,  and  even  deprives  practical 
life  of  any  universally  valid  rule.  Thus  it  brings  about 
the  Socratic  reform  of  philosophy;  in  part  directly, 
and  in  part  indirectly,  inasmuch  as  it  rendt  red  that 
reform  a  necessity  through  the  one-sided  and  doubtful 
character  of  its  own  results. 

L  THE  THREE  EARLIEST  SCHOOLS. 

A.  THE  ANCIENT  IONIANS. 

§  10.  Tholes. 

Thales,  a  contemporary  of  Solon  and  Oceans,  was  a 
citizen  of  Miletus,  whose  ancestry  was  derived  from  the 
Boeotian  Cadmeans.  His  birth  was  placed  by  Apol- 
lodorus,  according  to  Diog.  i.  37,  in  01.  35,  1,  i.e. 
640  B.C.  (it  was  probably,  however,  in  01.  39,  1,  or  624 
B.C.),  and  his  death  in  01.  58,  i.e.  548-5  B.C.  The 
former  of  these  dates  appears  to  be  founded  on  that  of 
the  solar  eclipse  in  585  B.C.  (vide  infra).  The  position 
assigned  him  as  the  head  of  the  Seven  Wise  Men  (vide 
sup.  p.  27)  and  what  is  said  of  him  in  Herod,  i.  170 
and- Diog.  i.  25,  are  evidence  of  the  esteem  in  which 
his  practical  wisdom  and  statesmanlike  ability  were 
held.  His  mathematical  and  astronomical  knowledge, 
acquired,  according  to  Eudemus,  in  Phoenicia  and 


38  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [|  It- 

Egypt  and  transplanted  to  Greece,  are  likewise  cele- 
brated; among  the  proofs  given  of  this,  the  most 
famous  is  that  he  predicted  the  solar  eclipse  which 
occurred,  according  to  the  Julian  calendar,  in  585  B.C., 
on  May  28  (Herod,  i.  74  and  elsewhere.)  It  was  no 
doubt  in  connection  with  these  mathematical  studies 
and  the  scientific  taste  awakened  by  them,  that  he 
undertook  to  answer  the  question  concerning  the 
ultimate  basis  of  things  in  an  unmythological  form ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  consistent  with  the 
elementary  character  of  these,  the  most  ancient  Greek 
mathematics,  that  his  physics  did  not  extend  beyond  a 
first  beginning.  He  declared  water  to  be  the  matter 
from  which  all  things  arose  and  of  which  they  consist, 
and  that  the  earth  floats  upon  the  water.  Aristotle l 
speaks  about  the  reasons  of  this  theory,  but  only  from 
his  own  conjecture,  for  he  possessed  no  writing  of 
Thales,  and  doubtless  none  existed  ;  those  which  are 
mentioned  by  later  writers,  together  with  the  doctrines 
quoted  from  them,  are  to  be  regarded  as  forgeries.  As 
to  the  way  in  which  things  arise  from  water,  Thales 
does  not  seem  to  have  explained  himself  further ;  he 
probably  thought  that  the  efficient  force  was  directly 
combined  with  matter,  and  conceived  this  force  in  the 
spirit  of  the  old  natural  religion  as  analogous  to  living 
forces,  as  is  seen  in  the  assertions  (Arist.  *  De  An.'  i,  5, 
411  a.  7.  19  Khat  all  is  full  of  gods,  and  that  the  magnet 
has  a  soul — t,.e.  life — since  it  attracts  iron.  That  he 

1  Metaph.    i    3,    983    b.    V2.  and    Hippo   together,  and   may 

Theophrastus   expresses    himself  have   found    something    in    the 

nvie  distinctly  in  Simpl.  Plii/t.  Intter  about  which  nothing  was 

23,  21  (Diels,  Doxogr.  475)  :  but  recorded  in  reference  to  Thales. 
ht    is  here  speaking  of   Thales 


f  101  THALES.  89 

expressly  discriminated,  on  the  other  hand,  the  force 
that  forms  the  world  as  God  or  Spirit  or  World-soul, 
from  matter,  we  have  no  reason  to  suppose.  But  how- 
ever meagre  this  first  commencement  of  a  physical 
theory  may  seem  to  us,  it  was  of  great  importance 
that  a  beginning  should  be  made.  We  find  thus  con- 
siderable progress  already  achieved  by  Anaximander. 

§  11.  Anaximander. 

This  important  and  influential  thinker  was  a  fellow- 
citizen  of  Thales,  with  whose  theories  he  must  certainly 
have  been  acquainted.  He  was  born  in  611-610  B.C.,  and 
died  soon  after  547-6  B.C.  (Diog.  ii.  2).  Pre-eminent  in 
his  time  for  astronomical  and  geographical  knowledge, 
he  prosecuted  the  cosmological  inquiries  raised  by  Thales 
with  independent  investigations,  and  wrote  down  the 
results  in  an  original  treatise  which  was  early  lost; 
being  thus,  side  by  side  with  Pherecydes,  the  oldest 
Greek  prose  writer,  and  the  first  philosophical  author. 
He  takes  as  the  beginning  of  all  things  («/>%^)  the 
unlimited  (aTrsipov),  i.e.  the  infinite  mass  of  matter 
out  of  which  all  things  arise,  and  into  which  they 
return  by  their  destruction,  in  order  *  to  render  to  each 
other  atonement  and  punishment  for  their  offence 
against  the  order  of  time.'  (Simpl. «  Phys.'  24,  18).  This 
primitive  matter,  however,  he  conceived  neither  as 
composed  of  the  later  four  elements,  nor  as  a  substance 
intermediate  between  air  and  fire,  or  air  and  water,1 

1  Aa  is  maintained  by  several  sumptions  given  above  is  defen- 

of   the   Greek  commentators  on  ded  by  Liitze,   Ueber  das  fiireipor 

Aristotle,  partly  in  contradiction  A.'t    (Leipzig,    1878),  and  both 

to    their   own    statements   else-  together   by  Neuhauser,  Anfuei- 

where.     The  second  of  tbe  as-  mamler  Miles.  (1883),  a.  44-273. 


40  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [f  u 

nor  lastly  as  a  mixture  of  particular  substances  in 
which  these  were  contained  as  definite  and  qualita- 
tively distinct  kinds  of  matter.1  From  the  express 
statement  of  Theophrastus  (op.  Simpl.  'Phys.'  27,  17 
ff.  154,  14  ff.),  and  from  the  utterances  of  Aristotle,* 
we  may  rather  infer  that  Anaximander  either  dis- 
tinguished his  unlimited  from  all  definite  material 
substances,  or,  as  is  more  likely,  never  explained  him- 
self at  all  concerning  its  particular  nature,  but  meant 
by  it  matter  in  general,  as  distinct  from  particular 
kinds  of  matter.  He  argued,  doubtless  wrongly,  that 
this  primitive  matter  must  be  unlimited,  or  it  would 
otherwise  be  exhausted  in  the  creation  of  things.3  As 
primitive  matter  the  unlimited  is  underived  and  im- 
perishable, and  its  motion  is  also  eternal.  From 
the  latter  doctrine  follows  the  separation  (eK/cpivsa-Oai), 
of  particular  kinds  of  matter.  First  the  warm  and  the 
cold  were  parted  off;  from  both  arose  the  damp,  from 
the  damp  were  separated  the  earth,  the  air,  and  the 
sphere  of  fire  which  surrounded  the  earth  as  a  spherical 
crust.  When  this  burst  asunder  wheel-shaped  husks, 
filled  with  fire  and  having  apertures,  were  formed: 
these  being  moved  by  currents  of  air,  revolve  around 
the  earth,  the  shape  of  which  is  conceived  as  cylin- 
drical, in  an  inclined  horizontal  direction.  The  fire 

»  On  this  assumption,  upon  b.  22.     De  Cain,  in.  6,  303  b.  13 

which   Bitter  bases  his  division  ff.     Cf.  Pre-Socratic  Philoso  //// 

of    the   Ionic   philosophers  into  L  256  ff. 

Mechanical    and    Dynamic— an  »  Arist.   Phijt.  iii.   4,   203  b. 

assumption  which  is  still  shared  18;    c.   8,   208   a.    8.     Cf.    Plufc 

by  some,  see  Pre-S->cratw  Pltila-  Placit.   i.   3.  4.    (Stob.    Eel.    L 

tojthy,  i.  240,  note  4.  2U2)  &c.  Pre-Socratio  Philosophy 

*  Phyt.  L  4,  init.  iii.  5,  204  i.  234  ff. 


Ill]  AXAXIMANDER.  41 

which  the  wheel-shaped  rings  allow  to f  stream  forth 
from  their  apertures  during  their  revolutions,  and 
which  is  continually  renewing  itself  by  means  of  the 
exhalations  of  the  earth,  gives  the  appearance  of  stars 
moving  through  space ;  a  conception  which  may  seem 
very  strange  to  us,  but  is  in  truth  the  first  known 
attempt  to  explain  the  regular  movement  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  mechanically,  in  the  manner  of  the 
later  theory  of  the  spheres.  The  earth  was  at  first  in  a 
fluid  state  ;  from  its  gradual  drying  up,  living  creatures 
were  produced,  beginning  with  men,  who  were  first  in 
the  form  of  fishes  in  the  water,  which  they  only 
quitted  when  they  had  so  far  progressed  as  to  be  able 
to  develop  themselves  on  land.  That  Anaximander, 
in  harmony  with  the  presuppositions  of  his  cosmology, 
held  a  periodical  alternation  of  renewal  and  destruction 
of  the  world,  and  in  consequence  a  series  of  successive 
worlds,  without  beginning  or  end,  is  maintained  by  a 
trustworthy  tradition  traceable  to  Theophrastus,  and 
wrongly  discredited  by  Schleiermacher. ' 

§  12.  Anaximenes. 

Anaximenes,  also  a  Milesian,  is  called  by  later 
writers  the  disciple  of  Anaximander,  which  is  at  least 
BO  far  true  that  he  clearly  betrays  the  influence  of  his 
predecessor.  His  life  may  approximately  be  assigned 
to  the  years  between  588  B.C.  and  524  B.C.  *  Of  a 

1  Tleler  AiMxima-ndros.We^e,    of  life)  fell  in  01.  68,  1   (548 
3  Abth.  ii.  195  A.  B.C.),  and  under  this  hypothesis 

2  On  the  ground  of  the  state-    that  the  data  in  Diog.  ii.  3,  can 
ment  (HippoL  Eefut.  Keer.  i.  7),     be   changed,  and  that 

that  his  <wc^  (  =  the  40th  year    denotes 


42  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§  IS 

treatise  of  his  in  Ionic  prose,  only  a  small  fragment  has 
been  preserved. 

lu  his  physical  theory,  Anaximenes  differs  from 
Anaximander  in  taking  for  his  first  principle  not 
infinite  matter  without  more  precise  determination, 
but  with  Thales  a  qualitatively  determined  matter; 
but  he  again  coincides  with  Anaximander  in  choosing 
for  this  principle  a  substance  to  which  the  essential 
qualities  of  Anaximander's  primitive  essence,  un- 
limitedness  and  unceasing  motion,  equally  appeared  to 
belong.  In  the  air  both  are  to  be  found.  It  not  only 
spreads  itself  boundlessly  in  space,  but  is  also  conceived 
in  perpetual  motion  and  change,  and  proves  itself 
(according  to  the  ancient  notion  which  makes  the  soul 
identical  with  vital  air)  to  be  the  ground  of  all  life 
and  all  motion  in  living  beings.  'As  the  air  as 
our  soul  holds  us  together,  so  the  blowing  breath 
(wvevpa)  and  the  air  embraces  the  whole  world.' 
(Anax.  ap.  Plut.  «  Plac.'  i.  3,  6.)  Through  its  motion, 
without  beginning  or  end,  the  air  suffers  a  change 
which  is  properly  of  a  two-fold  kind : — rarefaction 
(fj,dv(i)<ris,  apaiaxTis)  or  loosening  (^aXapoV,  avsons) ; 
and  condensation  (TTVKVOHTLS)  or  contraction  (crvarsX- 
\ea-0ai,  eTriraats).  The  former  is  at  the  same  time 
heating,  and  the  latter  cooling.  Through  rarefac- 
tion air  becomes  fire,  through  condensation  it  becomes 
wind,  then  clouds,  water,  earth,  stones  ;  an  idea  which 
Anaximenes  no  doubt  deduced  in  the  first  instance 
from  the  atmospheric  processes  and  precipitates.  In 
the  creation  of  the  universe,  the  earth  was  first 
formed;  according  to  Anaximenes,  it  is  flat  like  a 


$12]    _  ANAXIMENES.  48 

plate,  and  therefore  borne  upon  the  air ;  the  vapours 
ascending  from  it  are  condensed  into  fire ;  the  stars 
are  portions  of  this  fire  pressed  together  by  the  air; 
of  a  similar  shape  to  the  earth,  they  revolve  around  it 
laterally  floating  upon  the  air  (supposing  this  was 
not  intended  to  apply  merely  to  the  planets).  Accord- 
ing to  credible  testimony,  Anaximenes  agreed  with 
Anaximander  in  maintaining  an  alternate  construction 
and  destruction  of  the  world. 

§  13.  Later  adherents  of  the  ancient  Ionian  School. 

Diogenes. 

The  school  which  the  Milesian  philosophers  had 
founded  in  the  sixth  century  also  appears  in  the  fifth. 
Hippo,  who  lived  in  the  second  third  of  this  century, 
held  with  Thales  that  water,  or  more  precisely  the 
moist  (vypov)  was  the  primitive  matter  of  the  world. 
In  this  he  was  led  by  the  analogy  of  animal  life : '  as 
also  he  regarded  the  soul  as  a  moisture  originating 
from  the  seed.  From  water  arose  fire,  and  from  the 
conquest  of  water  by  fire,  came  the  world.  Anaximenes 
was  followed  in  his  doctrine  by  Idaeus,  who  taught 
that  the  air  was  the  primitive  matter ;  those  inter- 
mediate theories  also  which  are  mentioned  (sup.  p.  39, 
note),  and  which  Aristotle  repeats  without  naming  their 
author,  are  mostly  allied  with  those  of  Anaximenes. 
Even  so  late  as  440-425  B.C.  Diogenes  of  Apollonia 

1  "According  to  the  statement  to  Thal<-s  this  statement  appears 

of  Theophrasius.  which  is  to  be  to  rest  on  supposition   only  ;  in 

gathered    from  Simpl.  Plnjs.  23,  Hippo  it  si-ems  to  have  the  sup- 

18   f.      Plut.   Piac.   i.  3,    1    (cf.  port  of  his  treatise. 
Diela,  Doxogr.  220).    In  regard 


44  PKE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§  13 

made  an  attempt  to  defend  the  monistic  materialism 
of  Anaximenes  against  Anaxagoras'  doctrine  of  the 
world-forming  Spirit ;  saying  that  Anaximenes  found 
those  qualities  in  the  air  itself,  which  Anaxagoras 
believed  could  be  ascribed  only  to  spirit.  If,  on  the 
one  hand  (in  opposition  to  the  innumerable  primitive 
substances  of  Anaxagoras),  one  common  matter  must 
be  assumed  for  all  things,  as  otherwise  no  mixture  and 
reaction  of  them  would  be  possible ;  and,  on  the  other 
hand,  this  matter  must  be  a  thinking  and  rational 
essence:  as  is  proved  partly  by  its  distribution  accord- 
ing to  design,  and  partly  and  especially  by  the  life  and 
thought  of  men  and  animals,  we  find  these  very 
characteristics  united  in  air.  It  is  air  which  ferments 
all  things  and  (as  soul)  produces  life,  motion,  and 
thought  in  anwnals.  Air  is  therefore,  according  to 
Diogenes,  the  underived,  unlimited  rational  essence 
which  governs  and  orders  all  things.  All  things  are 
merely  transformations  of  air  (sTSpoiwa-sis).  Their 
transformation  (according  to  Anaximenes)  consists  in 
rarefaction  and  condensation,  or,  which  is  the  same,  in 
heating  and  cooling.  The  denser  and  heavier  sank 
down,  the  lighter  ascended,  and  thus  the  two  masses 
were  separated  from  which,  in  further  process  of 
development,  the  earth  and  the  heavenly  bodies  arose 
through  the  revolution  effected  by  the  warm.  From 
the  terrestrial  slime  (no  doubt  by  the  influence  of  the 
solar  heat),  plants,  animals,  and  human  beings  were 
produced:  the  soul  of  living  creatures  consists  of  a 
kind  of  air  which  though  not  nearly  so  warm  as  that 
of  the  sun,  is  warmer  than  the  atmospheric  air 


§18]  LATER  IONTANS,  DIOGENES.  46 

On  the  particular  character  of  this  air,  that  of  the 
various  kinds  of  living  creatures  depend.  The  phe- 
nomena of  corporeal  and  animate  life,  especially  the 
circulation  of  the  blood  and  the  activity  of  the  senses, 
Diogenes  endeavoured  not  without  ingenuity  to  explain 
by  means  of  his  theory.  He  agreed  with  the  ancient 
lonians  and  with  Heracleitus  in  maintaining  an  infinite 
series  of  successive  worlds. 

B.  THE   PYTHAGOREANS. 

§  14.  Pythagoras  and  his  School. 
The  history  of  Pythagoras  was  very  early  overgrown 
with  many  unhistorical  legends  and  conjectures,  and 
became  so  more  and  more  as  it  was  handed  down  by 
successive  traditions.  His  doctrine  also,  especially 
after  the  rise  of  the  Neo-Pythagorean  school,  and  the 
extensive  forgeries  of  Pythagorean  writings  which 
prevailed  there,  has  been  so  mixed  up  with  later  ele- 
ments that  it  requires  the  most  careful  criticism  to 
distinguish  the  unhistorical  constituents  in  the  accounts 
preserved.  As  far  as  the  history  of  the  Pythagorean 
school  and  its  founder  is  concerned,1  a  higher  degree  of 
certainty  can  only  be  attained  in  regard  to  a  few  main 
points,  and  as  to  their  doctrines  only  for  such  portions 
as  we  can  learn  from  the  genuine  fragments  of  Philo- 
laus,2  the  utterances  of  Aristotle,  and  those  statements 

'On  the  Greek  biographies  (1819).  When  I  had  proved  that 

of  Pythagoras  known  to  us,  cf.  a  part  of  them  were  forge- 

p.  'J,  12  f.  ries  Schaarschmidt  (Die  angebl. 

*  All  the  fragments  of  Philo-  Sohriftstellerei  d.  PhUol.  186i)» 

la  us  have  been  edited  l>y  Boeckh.  attempted  to  prove  the  same  of 

der  Pi/thagor.  Lehren  all.  Repeated  examination  only 


46  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§  U 

of  the  later  doxogvaphera  which  we  are  justified  in 
referring  to  Theophrastus.1 

Pythagoras,  the  son  of  Mnesarchus,  was  born  in 
Samos,  whither  his  ancestors,  who  were  Tyrrhenian 
Pelagians,  had  migrated  from  Phlius.  From  the  in 
exact  statements  in  respect  to  the  time  when  he  lived, 
which  are  often  contradictory  in  particular  details,  this 
much  only  can  be  accepted  as  probable,  that  he  was 
born  about  580-570  B.C.,  came  to  Italy  about  540- 
530  B.C.,  and  died  towards  the  end  of  the  sixth  or 
soon  after  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century.  Even 
Heracleitus  calls  him  the  most  learned  man  of  his 
time,2  but  how  and  where  he  gained  his  knowledge  we 
do  not  know.  The  statements  of  later  writers  con- 
cerning his  travels  and  the  culture  acquired  in  the 
course  of  them  in  the  countries  of  the  South  and  East, 
by  reason  of  the  untrustworthiness  of  the  authorities, 
lateness  of  the  accounts,  and  the  suspicious  circum- 
stances (mentioned  supra,  p.  19)  under  which  they 
appeared,  cannot  be  regarded  as  traditions  based  upon 
historical  recollection,  but  only  as  conjectures  to  which 

proves  to  me  that  the  fragments  authorities.  Roth's  uncritical  and 

from  thb  treatise  irepl  if/i/x^s  are  romancing  Qcsch.  unt.  abendldn- 

not  genuine,  and   that   the  rest  dischen.      Philosophic,      vol.     ii. 

of  the  fragments,  which   are  in  (1858),   can   only  be  used  with 

part  confirmed  by  Aristotle,  are  the  greatest  care, 
genuine.   Cf.  Pre-Socratic  Philo-          '"  Fr.  17.  Byw;  in  Diogenes, 

tophy,  318  note  2,  392  ft.,  446  ff.  viii.    6.      nwfcrydpijr  ^  Mr*^?** 

1  Among  the    later  accounts  lirrop'nriv  fj<7/c7j<r«  avdpunrtav  na\iara 

of  the   Pythagorean    philosophy  wdvruv  *al  fK\t£d/j.ft>os  rain-as  ras 

we   may   mention,  besides  well-  ffvyypatyas    (to     what     treatises 

known  and  more  comprehensive  this    refers   we    do    not    know) 

works,    Chaignet's   Pythagore  et  i-ro^crt   favrov  <ro<plriv  TtoKouAdiriv 

la  phil.  pyth.  (2  vols.  1873)  as  a  Kaxorfxyiiiv.     Cf.  Herod,   iv.   95. 

careful  book,  though  giving  too  "E.\\4ivu>v  ou  ry  curOfvtffTaTtf  or- 

nm<;u   weight  to   untrustworthy  furry  Uu8ay6py 


§  14]  PYTHAGORAS.  47 

the  doctrine  of  transmigration  and  some  Orphic- 
Pythagorean  usages  especially  gave  rise.  Even  as  to 
the  presence  of  Pythagoras  in  Egypt,  to  which  no 
internal  improbability  is  opposed,  nothing  is  known 
according  to  all  appearance  in  the  older  tradition. 
The  earliest  evidence  for  it  is  an  oration  of  Isocrates 
which  does  not  even  lay  claim  to  historical  credibility 
('Busir.'  11,  28,  cf.  12,33);  Herodotus  (ii.  81,  123, 
cf.  c.  49,  53)  seems  to  be  quite  unacquainted  with  any 
sojourn  of  Pythagoras  in  Egypt;  and  by  the  *  philosophy ' 
which  he  transplanted  thence  to  Greece  even  Isocrates 
doubtless  means  not  so  much  any  scientific  doctrines 
as  his  whole  reformatory  procedure.  In  regard  to 
Plato  and  Aristotle  it  is  {vide  sup.  p.  21)  very  im- 
probable that  they  derived  so  influential  a  system  as 
the  Pythagorean  from  Egypt.  The  statement  that 
Pherecydes  was  his  instructor  (attested  from  the  middle 
of  the  fourth  century  a p.  Diog.  i.  118,  119,  and  others) 
is  more  trustworthy,  but  also  not  certain  ;  and  though 
the  assertion  that  he  was  a  disciple  of  Anaximander 
(ap.  Porph.  *  Vit.  Pyth.'  2, 1 1 )  seems  to  rest  on  a  mere 
conjecture,  it  is  probable  (vide  sup.  p.  41)  that  the 
astronomical  theory  of  Anaximander  influenced  that  of 
Pythagoras.  Having  begun  his  activity  in  his  home 
as  it  appears,  he  found  its  chief  sphere  in  Lower  Italy 
(vide  sup.).  He  settled  in  Crotona  and  established  an 
association  there  which  found  numerous  adherents 
among  the  Italian  and  Sicilian  Greeks.  The  later 
legend  describes  his  position  in  these  regions  as  that 
of  a  prophet  and  worker  of  miracles,  his  school  as  a 
society  of  ascetics  living  under  a  strict  rule  and  having 


48  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§  U 

their  goods  in  common,  abstaining  from  flesh  diet, 
beans,  and  woollen  clothing,  and  sworn  to  inviolable 
secrecy  with  regard  to  their  order.  From  an  historical 
point  of  view  the  Pythagorean  society  appears  primarily 
as  a  form  of  the  mysteries  then  in  vogue ;  the  orgies 
mentioned  by  Herodotus  (ii.  81)  form  its  centre,  the 
doctrine  of  the  transmigration  of  souls  mentioned  bj 
Xenophanes  (ap.  Diog.  vi.  36)  is  its  leading  dogma. 
From  the  initiated  purity  of  life  was  demanded 
(TTvdayopstos  rpoiros  rov  /3tW,  Plato,  <  Rep.'  x.  600  B), 
which  enjoined  on  them  however,  according  to  the 
best  testimonies,  only  a  few  abstinences,  and  these  not 
of  an  oppressive  nature.  The  Pythagorean  society  was 
distinguished  from  all  kindred  phenomena  by  the 
ethical  and  reformatory  character  which  was  here  given 
to  the  mystic  dogma  and  to  the  cultus  of  Pythagoras, 
and  the  endeavour  to  educate  its  members,  in  harmony 
with  the  Doric  customs  and  view  of  life,  to  bodily  and 
mental  soundness,  to  morality  and  self-control.  With 
this  endeavour  was  combined  not  only  the  cultivation 
of  many  arts  and  "crafts,  of  gymnastic,  music,  and 
medicine,  but  also  scientific  activity,  which  was  prac- 
tised within  the  society  after  the  example  of  its  founder, 
and  participation  in  which,  apart  from  the  mysteries  of 
the  school,  was  probably  seldom  attained  by  any  except 
the  members.  The  mathematical  sciences  until  the 
beginning  of  the  fourth  century  had  their  chief  seat  in 
the  Pythagoiean  school:  with  them  was  connected  that 
doctrine  of  nature  which  formed  the  essential  content 
of  the  Pythagorean  system  of  philosophy.  That  an 
ethical  reform  like  that  attempted  by  Pythagoras  must 
pf  necessity  become  a  political  reform  was  inevitable 


§14]  PTTHAOOEAS.  49 

among  the  Greeks  of  that  period  ;  in  their  politics  the 
Pythagoreans,  in  accordance  with  the  whole  spirit  of 
their  doctrine,  were  upholders  of  the  Dorian  aristocratic 
institutions,  which  had  for  their  end  the  strict  subordi- 
nation of  the  individual  to  the  whole,  and  they  governed 
by  their  influence  many  of  the  cities  of  Magna  Graecia 
in  this  spirit.  Meanwhile  this  political  attitude  of  the 
Pythagorean  society  gave  occasion  to  frequent  attacks 
upon  it,  which  determined  Pythagoras  himself  to  re- 
move from  Crotona  to  Metapontum,  where  he  died. 
After  many  years  of  irritation,  the  burning  of  the 
Pythagorean  meeting-place  in  Crotona,  probably  about 
440-430  B.C.,  gave  the  signal  for  a  persecution  that 
extended  itself  over  the  whole  of  Lower  Italy,  in  which 
many  of  the  Pythagoreans  lost  their  lives,  and  the 
remainder  were  dispersed.  Among  these  fugitives, 
through  whom  middle  Greece  first  became  acquainted 
with  Pythagoreanism,  were  Philolaus  (sup.  p.  45  note  2) 
and  Lysis,  the  teacher  of  Epaminondas,  who  both  lived 
in  Thebes.  Eurytus  was  a  disciple  of  the  former,  and 
his  scholars  are  mentioned  by  Aristoxenus  as  the  last 
Pythagoreans.  About  the  beginning  of  the  fourth 
century  we  meet  with  Cleinias  in  Tarentum,  and  soon 
afterwards  with  the  famous  Archytas,  through  whom 
Pythagoreanism  once  more  attained  the  leadership  of 
a  great  community ;  soon  after  his  time  the  Pytha- 
gorean science,  even  in  Italy,  appears  to  have  been 
extinguished  or  to  have  sunk  into  a  state  of  insig- 
nificance, while  the  Pythagorean  mysteries,  on  the 
contrary,  not  only  maintained  themselves  but  even 
spread  and  increased. 


50  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§  15 

f  15.  The  Pythagorean  System:  Number,  and 
the  Elements  of  Number. 

As  the  practical  endeavours  of  Pythagoras  had  for 
their  object  the  harmonious  and  orderly  shaping  of 
human  life,  so  the  theory  of  the  world  which  is  connected 
with  them,  and  the  leading  ideas  of  which  no  doubt 
originated  with  Pythagoras,  kept  mainly  in  view  that 
order  and  harmony  through  which  the  totality  of  thing> 
is  combined  into  a  beautiful  whole,  a  cosmos;  and 
which  is  chiefly  perceptible  to  us  in  harmony  of  tones, 
and  in  the  regular  motion  of  the  heavenly  bodies. 
The  reason  of  this,  as  the  Pythagoreans  as  mathema- 
ticians remark,  is  that  everything  in  the  world  is  ordered 
according  to  numerical  relations  ;  number,  according  to 
Philolaus(ajp.  Stob.  '  Ecl.'i.  8),  is  that  which  makes  the 
hidden  cognisable,  rules  divine  things  (the  cosmos), 
and  the  works  of  men,  music,  and  handicraft,  and 
allows  no  falsehood.  All  is  so  far  formed  according  to 
number.1  But  to  their  unpractised  realistic  thought 
this  proposition  is  immediately  converted  into  another 
— namely,  that  number  is  the  essence  of  things,  that 
all  is  number,  and  consists  of  number ;  and  to  cancel 
the  obscurity  which  herein  lies,  and  to  ascribe  to  the 
Pythagoreans  a  definite  distinction  between  numbers 
and  things  ordered  according  to  numerical  relations, 
would  be  to  mistake  the  peculiar  character  of  their 
whole  point  of  view. 

Numbers  are  some  of  them  odd  and  some  even, 
and  individual  numbers  are  also  composed  of  these 

1  Arist.  Mtfta^h,  i.  6,  987  b.  11,  ntfifati  r*  trra  <pa<rh- 


§  15]  THE  PYTHAGOREAN  SYSTEM.  61 

constituents.  Uneven  numbers  are  those  which  set  a 
limit  to  bi-partition ;  the  even  are  those  which  do  not ; 
the  former  are  limited,  the  latter  unlimited.  From 
this  the  Pythagoreans  concluded  that  the  odd  and 
even,  or,  as  it  is  more  generally  expressed,  the  limiting  l 
and  the  unlimited,  are  the  fundamental  constituents  of 
numbers  and  of  all  things  (the  TT pay i^ar a  Jf  wv  a-vvla-ra 
o  *ooyios,  Philol.).  And  as  the  limited  was  held  by  the 
Greeks  to  be  more  perfect  than  the  unlimited  and  form- 
less, and  the  odd  number  more  lucky  than  the  even,  they 
connected  therewith  the  assertion  that  the  opposition 
of  the  limited  and  unlimited,  of  the  better  and  the 
worse,  runs  through  everything,  and  a  table  of  ten 
opposites  was  drawn  up  (no  doubt  first  by  later 
members,  sucl  as  Philolaus),  which  was  as  follows: — 1. 
limited  and  unlimited ;  2.  odd  and  even  ;  3.  one  and 
many ;  4.  right  and  left ;  5.  masculine  and  feminine ; 
6.  rest  and  motion  ;  7.  straight  and  crooked ;  8.  light 
and  darkness;  9.  good  and  evil;  10.  square  and  ob- 
long. 

On  account  of  this  opposition  in  the  primary  con- 
stituents of  things,  a  principle  was  necessary  to  unite 
the  opposites  ;  this  principle  is  harmony,  as  *  unity  of 
the  manifold,'  and  '  agreement  of  the  discordant.' 
Since  therefore  all  is  called  number,  it  may  also  be 
said  that  all  is  harmony ;  but,  owing  to  the  obscurity 
of  the  school  in  co-ordinating  the  particular  and  the 
universal,  the  symbol  and  the  conception  designated 
by  it,  no  attempt  is  made  to  discriminate  not  only 

1  Called  by  Philol.  (Fr.  i.)  ftp<u»or :  in  Plato  and  Arist.  we  have 


69  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [$  15 

harmony  in  the  cosmic  sense  from  musical  harmony, 
but  musical  harmony  from  the  octave,  which  was  also 
called  *  Harmony.' 

§  16.  The  Pythagorean  Physics. 

In  applying  their  doctrine  of  numbers  to  given 
phenomena,  the  procedure  of  the  Pythagoreans  was 
for  the  most  part  very  arbitrary  and  unmethodical, 
When  they  found  a  number  or  a  numerical  relation  in 
anything,  they  explained  it  as  the  essence  of  the  thing ; 
thus,  not  unfrequently  the  same  object  was  designated 
by  different  numbers,  and  still  more  commonly  the 
same  number  was  used  for  the  most  various  objects, 
and  these  consequently,  no  doubt,  were  placed  in  rela- 
tion one  with  another  (e.g.  the  icaipds,  and  the  sun), 
But  a  more  methodical  development  of  the  doctrine  of 
numbers  was  attempted  when  the  various  classes  of 
things  were  arranged  according  to  numbers,  and  their 
qualities  were  explained  by  numbers.  The  funda- 
mental scheme  of  numbers  is  itself  the  decadal  system ; 
each  of  the  first  ten  figures  has  its  own  power  and 
significance.  Among  these  the  decad  is  pre-eminent 
as  the  perfect  all-embracing  number;  next  to  it  the 
potential  ten,  the  Tetractys  with  which  the  well-known 
form  of  oath  was  connected.  On  numerical  relations, 
as  the  Pythagoreans  (and,  it  is  said,  their  founder)  first 
discovered,  the  acuteness  and  concord  of  tones  are 
founded;  the  relation  of  these  tones,  determined  by 
the  length  of  the  vibrating  strings,  and  computed 
according  to  the  diatonic  division  of  the  heptachord 
(later,  octachord),  is  thus  given  by  Philolaus  (ap.  Stob. 


§  16]  THE  PYTHAGOREAN  PMYSICS.  63 

«Ecl.'  i.,  462):  for  the  octave  (apfiovia,  later  8t£ 
iracr&v)  1:2;  for  the  fifth  (8*f  ogeiav,  kter  Siet 
irtvrs)  2:3;  for  the  fourth  (<rvX\a£a,  kter  Sib 
rea-a-apwv)  3:4;  for  the  tone  8  :  9.  From  numbers 
were  derived  geometrical  forms  (in  which  Greek 
mathematics  were  accustomed  to  exhibit  numerical 
relations);  two  was  called  the  number  of  the  line, 
three  the  number  of  the  plane,  four  of  the  solid. 
Philolaus  made  the  elementary  nature  of  matter 
dependent  on  the  form  (of  its  smallest  parts);  for  of 
the  five  regular  solids  he  assigned  the  tetrahedron  to 
fire,  the  octahedron  to  air,  the  icosahedron  to  water, 
the  cube  to  the  earth,  the  dodecahedron  to  the  uni- 
verse (perhaps  to  the  aether).  The  eternity  of  the 
world  is  attributed  to  Pythagoras  only  by  later  writers, 
in  contradiction  to  Aristotle.  The  formation  of  the 
world  began  from  the  one,  i.e.  from  the  fire  of  the 
centre;  and  this  fire  attracted  to  itself  and  limited 
the  nearest  portions  of  the  unlimited.  In  it  lies  the 
central  point  and  union  of  the  world,  it  is  *  Hestia,' 
'  the  citadel  of  Zeus,'  &c.  Around  this  central  fire  the 
earth,  together  with  the  other  heavenly  bodies,  moves  ; 
and  here  for  the  first  time  the  thought  appears  of 
explaining  the  daily  motion  of  the  heaven  by  a  motion 
of  the  earth.  But  in  order  to  preserve  the  perfect 
number  ten  for  these  heavenly  bodies,  the  counter- 
earth  is  inserted  between  the  earth  and  the  central 
fire.  -  This  astronomical  system,  which  can  be  proved 
to  have  been  held  by  Philolaus,  seems  to  have  first  pro- 
ceeded from  the  successors  of  Pythagoras  ;  the  doctrine 
of  the  spheral  harmony,  which,  starting  from  the  popu- 


54  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  f§  " 

lax  conception,  treats  the  seven  planets  as  the  sounding 
strings  of  the  heavenly  heptachord,  is  more  ancient. 
The  theory  of  a  world-soul  was  attributed  to  the 
Pythagoreans  in  spurious  writings  of  a  Neo-Pytha- 
gorean  origin ;  but  it  is  clear  from  what  Aristotle  say* 
that  it  was  foreign  to  them.  Nor  do  they  seem  to 
have  instituted  any  more  particular  inquiries  in  regard 
to  the  human  soul.  Aristotle  only  states  in  regard  to 
this  subject  that  they  held  the  solar  corpuscles,  or, 
also,  that  which  moves  them,  to  be  souls  (*  De  An.'  i.  2, 
404  a.  1 6) ;  in  « Metaph.'  i.  5,  985  a.  30,  he  also  enumer- 
ates under  the  category  of  things  reduced  by  the 
Pythagoreans  to  number,  soul  and  understanding 
(vovs) ;  and  thereby  confirms  the  statement  (Iambi. 
'  Theol.  Arith.'  56)  that  Philolaus,  in  connection  with 
his  derivation  of  the  body  (sup.  p.  53),  assigned  the 
physical  qualities  to  the  number  five,  animation  to  six, 
intelligence  (z^oOs),  health,  and  Might'  to  seven,  and 
love,  wisdom,  and  practical  knowledge  to  eight.  The 
soul  is  also  described  as  harmony,  perhaps  likewise  as 
the  harmony  of  the  body;  and  it  may  be  true  that 
Philolaus  placed  the  seat  and  germ  (dp%d)  of  reaion 
in  the  head,  that  of  the  soul  in  the  heart,  that  of 
growth  and  germination  in  the  navel,  that  of  seed 
and  generation  in  the  sexual  parts.  The  further 
particulars  handed  down  by  tradition  as  belonging  to 
the  ancient  Pythagoreans,  but  bearing  a  stronger 
resemblance  to  the  Platonic  psychology,  are  not  to  be 
considered  authentic. 


1 17]    PYTHAGOREAN  RELIGION  AND  ETHICS.    66 

§  1 7.  Religious  and  Ethical  Doctrines  of  the 
Pythagoreans. 

Together  with  the  scientific  determinations  of  the 
Pythagorean  system,  a  number  of  doctrines  have  been 
handed  down  to  us  as  Pythagorean,  which  arose 
independently,  and  have  been  brought  into  very  slight 
combination,  or  none  at  all,  with  those  determinations. 
To  these  belong  first  of  all  the  doctrine  of  the  trans- 
migration of  souls,  taken  by  Pythagoras  from  the 
Orphic  mysteries  (sup.  p.  48),  and  the  theory  con- 
nected with  it  (mentioned  by  Eudemusas  Pythagorean) 
that  after  the  expiration  of  the  Great  Year  (probably 
reckoned  at  10,000  years)  the  previous  course  of  the 
world  down  to  the  smallest  details  will  be  repeated. 
Likewise  the  belief  in  demons,  by  which  are  chiefly 
meant  the  souls  waiting  in  Hades,  or  floating  about 
in  the  air  (vide  p.  54).  Finally  some  theological 
utterances  attributed  to  Philolaus  of  which  the  one 
that  recalls  Xenophanes  and  his  purer  conception 
of  God  has  no  certain  authority,  and  the  rest  bear  no 
philosophical  stamp.  The  ethical  precepts  of  the 
Pythagoreans  were  combined,  by  means  of  the  doctrine 
of  future  retribution,  with  the  dogma  of  transmigra- 
tion of  souls ;  but  this  religious  motive  which  is  not 
exclusively  Pythagorean,  has  nothing  in  common  with 
a  scientific  foundation  of  ethics.  Nor  is  such  a  founda- 
tion, to  be  found  in  the  practical  rules  and  prescripts 
which  have  been  handed  down  to  us  partly  in  symbo- 
lical maxims,  and  partly  in  other  forms.  A  collection 
of  such  prescripts  (dating  at  earliest  from  the  third 


66  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [*  17 

century  before  Christ)  contains  the  so-called  Golden 
Poem  (a  second,  probably  enlarged  by  his  own  addi- 
tions, was  composed  by  Aristoxenus,  vide  sup.  p.  10). 
The  ethical  principles  of  the  Pythagoreans  here  find 
expression ;  they  require  reverence  for  the  gods,  the 
government,  and  the  laws,  love  of  country,  fidelity  to 
friends,  self-examination,  temperance,  and  purity  of 
life,  but  these  demands  are  as  little  based  on  scientific 
formulae  as  in  the  proverbial  maxims  of  the  people  and 
the  poets.  The  only  authenticated  attempt  to  apply 
their  theory,  of  numbers  to  the  sphere  of  ethics  lies  in 
the  proposition  that  justice  is  an  equal  number  multi- 
plied by  an  equal  (or  more  accurately  that  it  is  one  of 
the  two  first  square  numbers,  four  and  nine),  because 
it  returns  equal  for  equal.  It  may  also  be  true  that 
they  described  virtue  as  harmony,  which,  however, 
asserts  nothing  particular  about  it.  Though  the 
ethical  tendency  of  the  Pythagorean  society  was  most 
valuable,  therefore,  from  a  practical  point  of  view,  the 
contribution  of  Pythagorean  philosophy  to  the  scien- 
tific treatment  of  ethical  questions  was  but  meagre ; 
for  the  necessity  of  such  a  treatment,  as  distinguished 
from  directly  ethical  and  religious  exhortation,  was  not 
yet  experienced. 

§  18.  Pythagoreaniam  in  Combination  with  other 
Doctrines. 

A  combination  of  the  Pythagorean  doctrine  with 
other  standpoints  produced  the  physical  theories  of 
Hippasus  and  Ecphantus.  Hippasus  of  Metapentum 
(about  450  B.C.),  who  is  generally  described  as  a 


§1«]  HIPPASUS,   ECPHANTUS,  ETC.  67 

Pythagorean,  seems  to  have  combined  the  Pythagorean 
central  fire  with  the  first  principle  of  Heracleitus ;  for 
he  declared  fire  to  be  the  primitive  matter  of  the  world. 
Ecphantus  (who  lived,  it  would  appear,  about  the 
beginning  of  the  fourth  century)  united  the  doctrine 
of  the  Pythagoreans  with  that  of  Democritus ;  instead 
of  the  units,  which  are  the  elements  of  number,  he 
substituted  corporeal  atoms;  but  he  assumed,  like 
Anaxagoras,  that  a  Divine  spirit  had  formed  the 
world.  Previous  to  his  time,  Hicetas  of  Syracuse,  with 
whom  he  herein  agrees,  had  exchanged  the  movement 
of  the  earth  around  the  central  fire  for  a  movement 
round  its  own  axis.  That,  on  the  other  hand,  philo- 
sophers who  did  not  belong  to  the  Pythagorean  society 
were  affected  by  certain  of  its  doctrines,  is  shown,  not 
only  by  the  examples  of  Parmenides  and  Empedocles, 
but  also  by  that  of  Alcmaeon,  the  Crotoniate  physician 
(first  half  of  the  fifth  century).  When  he  remarks  that 
human  life  moves  between  opposites,  we  are  reminded 
of  the  corresponding  doctrine  of  the  Pythagoreans ;  and 
there  is  a  reminiscence  of  their  doctrine  of  immortality 
in  his  saying  that  the  soul  is  immortal,  for  it  resemblef 
the  imperishable  heavenly  natures,  the  stars  being 
like  them  involved  in  perpetual  motion.  In  the 
fragments  also  of  the  famous  comic  poet,  Epicharmus 
(about  550-460  B.C.),  we  find,  together  with  certain 
propositions  of  Xenophanes  and  Heracleitus,  the 
Pythagorean  doctrine  of  immortality ;  but  we  are  uot 
justified  in  calling  him,  as  some  of  the  ancient  philo- 
sophers do,  a  Pythagorean. 


66  PRE-SOCRAT1C  PHILOSOPHY.  [|  19 


0.  THE   ELEATICS. 

§  19.  Xenophanes. 

The  founder  of  the  Eleatic,  as  of  the  Pythagorean 
school,  was  an  Ionian  who  had  immigrated  into  Lower 
Italy.  Born  about  576-2  B.C.  (01.  50,  as  Apollodorus 
probably  said,  instead  of  01.  40,  which  was  maintained 
by  tradition),  he  travelled  as  a  poet  and  rhapsodist  for 
many  years  through  the  cities  of  Greece,  and  finally 
settled  at  Elea,  where  he  died,  having  passed  his  ninety- 
second  year  (therefore  in  480  B.C.).  His  *  polymathy ' 
is  spoken  of  even  by  Heracleitus  (*  Fr.'  1 6,  ap.  Diog. 
ix.  1);  Theophrastus  (ap.  Diog.  ix.  21)  describes  him 
as  a  disciple  of  Anaximander.  His  poems  were  on 
many  and  various  subjects ;  we  are  indebted  for  our 
knowledge  of  his  philosophical  theories  to  the  frag- 
ments of  a  didactic  poem  (irspl  (frvasws  '),  and  the 
communications  of  Aristotle  and  Theophrastus  (ap. 
Simpl.  and  others  ;  Diels,  *  Doxogr.'  480  f.)  which  come 
from  it ;  on  the  other  hand  the  supposed  Aristotelian 
treatise,  *  De  Melisso,  Xenophane,  et  Gorgia,'is  neither 
a  work  of  Aristotle  or  Theophrastus,  nor  a  trustworthy 
account  of  the  doctrine  of  Xenophanes.  The  starting- 
point  of  that  doctrine  seems  to  have  been  the  bold 
criticism  of  the  Greek  popular  belief,  by  which  Xeno- 
phanes assumes  such  an  important  place  in  the  history 
of  Religion.  His  irony  and  aversion  are  excited 
not  only  by  the  human  form  of  the  gods  and  the 

»  Collected    and    edited     by    &c.,  1845.    Fragm.  Phil.  Or.  I 
Karaten,  PMlonojth.  Griech.  Rel.  i.     101  ff. 
1835.    Mullach,  Aritt.  DeMelisso, 


S 19]  XENOPHANE8.  W 

unworthy  stories  about  them  related  by  Hoiaer  and 
Hesiod ;  he  finds  also  that  their  plurality  is  incompatible 
with  a  purer  conception  of  Deity.  The  Best,  he  says, 
can  only  be  One ;  none  of  the  gods  can  be  governed  by 
another.  As  little  can  we  suppose  that  the  gods  had  a 
beginning,  or  wander  about  from  one  place  to  another. 
There  is  therefore  only  one  God,  *  neither  comparable 
to  mortals  in  shape,  nor  in  thoughts,'  '  all  eye,  all  ear, 
all  thought,'  <who  without  trouble,  by  his  thought, 
governs  all  things.'  With  Xenophanes,  however,  this 
God  coincides  with  the  world.  When  he  looked  around 
upon  the  universe,  he  declared  the  One  (or  asTheophras- 
tus,  ap.  Simpl.  '  Phys.'  22,  30,  says  :  TO  ti>  rovro  KOI 
irav)  to  be  the  Deity  (Arist.  *  Metaph.'  i.  5,  986  b. 
20);  that  he  was  the  first  to  bring  forward  the  doctrine 
that  all  things  are  One,  is  known  from  Plato  ('  Soph.' 
242  D).  This  One  Divine  Being  is  eternal  and  un 
changeable ;  whether  limited,  or  unlimited,  Xeno- 
phanes, according  to  the  explicit  testimony  of  Aflltotle 
and  Theophrastus,  did  not  discuss  ;  when,  therefore,  in 
the  treatise  <De  Mel.'  3,  977  b.  3,  it  is  expressly 
proved  to  be  neither  limited  nor  unlimited,  the  state- 
ment deserves  no  credence.  It  is  more  likely  that  he 
spoke  in  another  connection  of  the  infinity  of  the 
space  of  the  air  and  of  the  depths  of  the  earth,  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  of  the  spherical  shape  of  the  heavens, 
without  inquiring  how  the  two  ideas  were  compatible, 
and  without  referring  these  expressions  to  the  Divine 
nature.  That  he  declared  the  world  to  be  underived 
and  imperishable  is  also  credible ;  in  saying  this, 
however,  he  can  only  have  had  its  material  substance 


00  PRE-SOCHAT1C  PHILOSOPHY.  [|1» 

in  view,  for  in  regard  to  the  universe  he  did  not  assert 
it;  the  earth,  according  to  his  theory,  formed  itself 
from  the  sea,  as  he  proved  from  the  petrifactions  he 
had  observed,  and  would  again  partially  sink  into  it ; 
the  sun  and  the  stars  he  supposed  to  be  burning  masses 
of  vapour,  which  are  formed  anew  every  day.  With 
the  earth  the  human  race  will  also  be  destroyed,  and 
at  its  new  construction  will  be  again  created  (from  it, 
vide  sup.  p.  41).  When  the  later  sceptics  reckoned 
Xenophanes  among  themselves,  they  were  able  to 
appeal  in  support  of  this  assertion  to  expressions  of  his 
which  deplore  the  uncertainty  and  limitation  of  human 
knowledge ;  but  the  dogmatic  tenor  of  his  other  doc- 
trines shows,  notwithstanding,  how  far  he  was  from 
scepticism  on  principle. 

§  20.  Parmenides. 

If  Xenophanes  maintained  the  unity  and  eternity  of 
God  and  the  universe,  Parmenides  ascribed  the  same 
qualities  to  all  reality,  as  the  inevitable  inference  from 
that  conception ;  and  plurality  and  variability  of 
things  were  consequently  explained  as  mere  appear- 
ance. This  great  thinker,  who  was  so  revered  in 
antiquity,  and  especially  by  Plato,  according  to  his 
representation  in  the  '  Parmenides,'  cannot  have  been 
born  earlier  than  520-515  B.C.  This  statement,  how- 
ever, probably  belongs  to  the  anachronisms  of  which 
Plato  allows  himself  so  many  on  artistic  grounds ;  and 
Diogenes  (ix.  23)  is  nearer  the  truth  when  (doubtless 
following  Apollodorus)  he  places  his  most  nourishing 
period  (a/c/wj,  usually  assigned  to  a  man's  fortieth  year), 


S«0]  PARMENILES.  61 

in  01.  69,  and  therefore  his  birth  in  01.  59  (544-0  B.C.). 
Two  Pythagoreans  influenced  his  education,  and  he 
himself  is  said  to  have  led  a  Pythagorean  life,  but  in 
his  philosophical  theories  he  is  allied  to  Xenophanes.1 
The  conception  from  which  he  starts  is  that  of  the 
existent  in  its  opposition  to  the  non-existent ;  but  by 
the  existent  he  understands  not  the  abstraction  of  pure 
being,  but  the  '  full,'  the  mass  that  fills  space,  without 
any  more  precise  definition.  «  Only  being  is,  non- 
being  is  not  and  cannot  be  thought '  ('  Fr.'  33  ff.  43  f.  M) 
this  is  the  fundamental  principle  from  which  he  derives 
all  his  determinations  of  being.  Being  cannot  begin 
or  cease  to  be,  for  it  can  neither  come  from  non-being 
nor  become  non-being ;  it  never  was,  and  never  will 
be,  but  is  undividedly  present  (yvv  sartv  ojiov  TTO.V  h< 
£we%&).  It  is  indivisible,  for  it  is  that  which  it  is, 
everywhere  equally,  and  there  is  nothing  by  which  it 
could  be  divided.  It  is  unmoved,  complete  in  itself, 
everywhere  self-identical,  and  may  be  compared  with 
a  well-rounded  sphere,  spreading  itself  equally  from 
the  centre  to  all  sides.  Thought,  moreover,  is  not 
distinct  from  being,  for  it  is  thought  of  the  existent. 
Only  that  knowledge  therefore  has  truth  which  shows 
us  in  all  things  this  one  invariable  being,  and  this  is 
reason  (\6<yoi).  The  senses,  on  the  other  hand,  which 
show  us  a  multiplicity  of  things,  origin,  decay,  and 
change,  are  the  sources  of  all  error.* 

1  The  frajrments  of  his  poem  Berl.  1864 ;  Stein,  in  the  Symb. 

wepl    Qfoews   will    be    found    in  Philol.  Bonnent.  Leipzig,  1864  2. 

Karsten,  Phil'soph.  Or,  Rel.  i.  2;  p.  763  ff. 

Mullach,  in  the  works  mentioned,          2  On  the  other  hand,  I  cannot 

p.  68 ;  Th.  Vatke,  Farm,  Doctrwa,  agree  with  the  view  of  Bernay* 


aS  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§20 

Parmenides  nevertheless  undertook  to  show,  in 
the  second  part  of  his  poem,  how  the  world  was  to  be 
explained  from  the  standpoint  of  the  ordinary  mode 
of  presentation.  In  truth,  only  being  exists;  the 
opinion  of  man  places  non-being  beside  it,  and  thus 
explains  all  things  out  of  two  elements,  of  which  one 
corresponds  to  being,  the  other  to  non-being :  namely, 
light  or  fire  ($>ko<yos  aWspiov  irvp},  and  '  night '  or  the 
dark,  the  heavy  and  the  cold,  which  Parmenides  also 
called  earth.  According  to  Theophrastus,  he  also 
described  the  former  as  the  active  principle,  and  the 
latter  as  the  passive  principle ;  placing,  however, 
beside  them  the  mythic  form  of  the  goddess  who  guides 
all  things.  He  undertakes  to  show  how  upon  these 
presuppositions  we  can  explain  to  ourselves  the  origin 
and  constitution  of  the  world ;  but  very  few  of  these 
explanations  have  come  down  to  us.  He  describes  the 
universe  as  composed  of  the  earth  and  the  various 
spheres  grouped  around  it,  and  spanned  by  the  stead- 
fast arch  of  heaven.  Of  these  spheres  some  are 
light,  some  dark,  and  some  mixed.  He  seems  to  have 
supposed  that  men  originated  from  terrestrial  slime. 
Their  thoughts  and  perceptions  are  regulated  accord- 
ing to  the  material  constituents  of  the  body ;  each  of 
the  two  elements  recognises  that  which  is  akin  to  it, 
the  character  of  the  presentations  depends  on  which 
predominates ;  they  have  therefore  greater  truth  when 
the  warm  element  is  in  the  ascendant. 

and  others  that  Parmenides  was    and  non-being  as  the  same.     Of. 
thinking  of  Heracleitus  in  his  cri-     Pre-Socratio  Pkilogojhy,  ii.  109. 
ticism  of  those  who  regard  being 


i»J  ZENO  AND  MEL1SSVS.  68 

§  21.  Zeno  and  Melissus. 

A  third  generation  of  Eleatic  philosophers  is  re- 
presented by  Zeno  and  Melissus.  Zeno  of  Elea,  whose 
heroic  death  in  withstanding  a  tyrant  is  so  celebrated, 
was  the  favourite  disciple  of  Parmenides,  and  according 
to  Plato  («  Parm.'  127  B),  twenty-five  years  his  junior. 
In  a  prose  treatise  written  in  his  earlier  life,  he  defended 
the  doctrine  of  Parmenides  in  an  indirect  manner,  by 
refuting  the  ordinary  mode  of  presentation  with  such 
skill  that  Aristotle  (according  to  Diog.  viii.  57,  ix.  25), 
calls  him  the  inventor  of  Dialectic.  The  arguments  of 
Zeno,  as  far  as  we  are  acquainted  with  them,  are  directed 
partly  against  the  theory  of  a  plurality  of  things, 
and  partly  against  motion.  The  argument  against 
multiplicity  is  as  follows:  (1)  If  being  were  many,  it 
must  be  infinitely  small  as  well  as  infinitely  great: — 
infinitely  small,  because  the  units  of  which  it  is  com- 
posed must  be  indivisible,  and  consequently  without 
magnitude;  infinitely  great,  because  each  of  its  parts 
must  have  a  part  before  it,  from  which  it  is  separated, 
this  in  like  manner  must  be  preceded  by  another  part, 
and  so  ad  infinitum.  (2)  Again,  were  being  many,  it 
must  in  respect  to  number  be  limited  as  well  as  un- 
limited: limited  because  there  would  be  no  more 
things  than  there  are ;  unlimited,  because  in  order  to 
be  many,  between  two  things  there  must  in  every 
case  be  a  third,  and  this  third  thing  must  have  another 
between  itself  and  each  of  the  other  two ;  and  so  on 
for  ever.  (3)  Since  all  things  exist  in  a  space,  space 
itself  must  be  in  a  space,  and  the  space  in  which  it  i» 


«4  PILE-SO CHATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§ « 

must  be  so,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  (4)  Finally  it 
is  maintained  that  if  the  shaking  out  of  a  bushel  of 
corn  produces  a  sound,  each  grain  and  each  part  of  a 
grain  must  do  so.  But  the  four  arguments  against 
motion  are  still  more  famous  and  important  (Arist. 
'  Phys.'  vi.  9,  and  his  commentators).  The  first  is 
this  :  — In  order  to  have  traversed  a  certain  distance,  a 
body  must  first  have  accomplished  half  of  that  distance, 
and  in  order  to  have  arrived  at  the  half,  it  must  first 
have  reached  the  half  of  that  half,  and  so  forth. 
That  is,  it  must  in  a  limited  time  have  gone  through 
spaces  unlimited  in  number.  (2)  Another  application 
of  the  same  argument  (the  so-called  Achilles). 
Achilles  cannot  overtake  the  tortoise,  if  it  has  at  all 
got  the  start  of  him;  for  while  he  arrives  at  the 
standpoint  A  of  the  tortoise,  the  tortoise  has  arrived 
at  a  second,  B ;  when  he  reaches  B,  the  tortoise  has 
arrived  at  C,  and  so  on.  (3)  The  flying  arrow  is  at 
rest,  for  it  is  at  each  moment  only  in  one  and  the 
same  space  ;  it  rests,  therefore,  in  every  moment  of  its 
flight,  and  consequently  also  during  the  whole  time  of 
it.  (4)  Equal  spaces  must  be  traversed  in  equal  time, 
if  the  speed  be  equal.  But  a  body  in  motion  passes 
another  body  twice  as  fast  if  the  latter  is  moving 
towards  it  with  equal  speed  as  if  that  other  were  at 
rest.  Therefore  the  laws  of  motion  are  here  in 
opposition  to  the  facts.  At  a  later  period,  these 
arguments  were  used  in  the  interests  of  scepticism ; 
Zeno  himself  only  designed  them  to  support  the 
propositions  of  Parmenides,  but  from  the  manner  in 
which  he  pursued  this  end  he  gave  a  powerful  impulse 


§21]  ZENO  AND  MELISSUS.  66 

not  only  to  the  development  of  Dialectic,  but  also  to  the 
discussion  of  the  problems  involved  in  the  conceptions 
of  space,  time,  and  motion. 

Melissus  of  Samos,  the  same  who  as  navarch  in 
442  B.C.  conquered  the  Athenian  fleet,  set  forth  in  his 
treatise  Trspl  </>u<rfwy '  Parmenides'  doctrine  of  Being. 
In  this,  while  defending  the  doctrine  against  the 
1  Physicists,'  among  whom  were  included,  as  it  would 
seem,  Empedocles  and  Leucippus,  he  sought  at  the  same 
time  points  of  contact  with  it  even  in  them.  He  proved 
the  eternity  and  imperishahleness  of  Being  with  the 
same  arguments  as  Parmenides  ;  but  differed  from  him 
in  drawing  from  thence  the  inadmissible  conclusion  that 
Being  must  also  be  unlimited  in  space.  He  sought, 
however,  to  establish  this  doctrine  by  denying  the  exist- 
ence of  empty  space;  and  further  applied  this  denial 
of  the  void  to  oppose  the  theory  of  a  plurality  of  things. 
For  he  steadily  maintained,  with  Parmenides,  the 
unity  and  indivisibility  of  Being.  With  him  also  he 
denied  all  change  and  motion,  and  in  consequence  (in 
opposition  to  Empedocles)  all  division  and  mixture. 
He  also  applied  the  argument  that  the  void  is  incon- 
ceivable against  motion  in  space;  for  without  the 
void  neither  motion  nor  rarefaction  and  condensation 
would  be  possible.  Lastly,  with  Parmenides,  he  re- 
jected the  evidence  of  the  senses,  charging  them  with 
the  contradiction  that  things  often  show  themselves 
changed  in  the  sequel,  which  would  be  impossible 

1  The  fragments  in  Ionic  i.  259  ff.,  and  previously  in  hit 
prose  in  Mullach,  Fragm.  Phil  edition  of  Arist.  De  Melitto. 


btt  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [|  21 

if  they  were   really  so  constituted  as  they  at  first 
represented  themselves  to  us. 

IL  THE  PHYSICISTS  OF  THE  FIFTH  CENTUEY  B.C. 

§  22.  Heracleitua. 

Heracleitus  was  an  Ephesian  of  noble  family,  a 
contemporary  of  Parmenides  (concerning  his  relation 
to  him,  vide  supra,  p.  61  note  2);  his  death  may  be 
placed  about  475  B.C.,  his  birth,  if  he  was  really  sixty 
years  old  when  he  died  (Diog.  viii.  52),  in  535  B.C. 
Of  an  earnest  and  thoughtful  turn  of  mind,  full  of 
contempt  for  the  doings  and  opinions  of  men,  and  not 
satisfied  even  with  the  most  honoured  sages  of  his 
time  and  nation,  he  went  his  own  way  in  pursuing  his 
inquiries  (£&t,£r)<rdfjir)v  S/ASWVTOV,  'Fr.'  80 ;  els  ijiol  ftvpioi, 
<Fr.'  113).  The  results  he  laid  down  in  his  treatise 
without  particular  demonstration,  in  pregnant,  pic- 
turesque sentences,  which  were  often  oracular  and 
laconic  to  the  point  of  obscurity.  This  mode  of  ex- 
position gained  him  the  surname  of  the  Obscure  (first 
found  in  Ps.  Arist.  '  De  Mundo,'  c.  5).  To  himself  it 
seemed  to  correspond  with  the  dignity  of  the  subject- 
matter,  and  to  us  it  gives  a  true  representation  of  his 
thought,  moving  as  it  did  more  in  intuitions  than  in 
conceptions,  and  directed  rather  to  the  combination 
than  the  discrimination  of  the  manifold.1 
4 

1  His  fragments  are  collected  Herdklritng  d.  DunMn,  1858,  8 
and  treated  of  in  monographs  Brte. ;  Schuster,  Heraklit,  1873 ; 
by  Solileiermacher,  Herakleitot  Mullach,  Frar/m.  Phil.,  i.  310  ff. ; 
(1807);  (\\erke,  z.  Phil,  ii.  By  water,  Heracliti  Reliquia-. 
1-14«) ;  Lassalle,  Die  Philo$.  Oxford,  1877  (I  quote  from  thi* 


§  22]  HERACLEITU8.  87 

Like  Xenophanes  and  Parmenides,  Heracleitus 
starts  from  the  consideration  of  nature,  and  he  too 
regards  it  as  a  uniform  whole,  which  as  such  neither 
arose  nor  passes  away.  But  while  they  fix  their  atten- 
tion so  exclusively  on  the  continuance  of  substance  in 
the  universe  that  the  plurality  and  change  of  pheno- 
mena are  altogether  cancelled  in  a  mere  appearance, 
Heracleitus,  on  the  contrary,  is  so  profoundly  impressed 
with  the  ceaseless  change  of  things,  the  transitoriness 
of  all  the  particular,  that  he  sees  in  it  the  most 
universal  law  of  the  world,  and  can  only  regard  the 
cosmos  as  being  involved  in  continual  change,  and 
transposed  into  perpetually  new  shapes.  All  things  are 
in  constant  flux,  nothing  has  permanence : l  *  he  cannot 
descend  twice  into  the  same  stream*  ('Fr.' 41,  81); 
everything  is  continually  passing  over  into  some  thing 
else,  and  this  proves  that  it  is  one  nature  which  assumes 
the  most  opposite  forms,  and  pervades  the  most  various 
conditions,  that '  All  comes  from  One,  and  One  from  All ' 
(Fr.  59) ;  *  God  is  day  and  night,  summer  and  winter, 
war  and  peace,  satiety  and  hunger '  («  Fr.'  36).  But 
this  essential  nature,  according  to  Heracleitus,  is  fire. 
'  This  world,  the  One  for  All,  neither  one  of  the  (rods  nor 
of  the  human  race  has  made  ;  but  it  ever  was,  and  is, 
and  shall  be,  an  eternally  living  fire '  ('  Fr.'  20).  The 
foundation  of  this  theory  ultimately  lies  in  the  fact 
that  fire  appears  to  the  philosopher  to  be  the  substance 

edition).  Further  the  reader  may  »  vdrra  /$«•/,    flvai   Si  irayltu 

compare     Bernays,     Heraclitea,  ov6fv.     Arist.  De  Ccelo,  iii.  i.  298 

1848 ;  Id.  Rhein.  Mug.,  N.  F.  vii.  b.  29.     rA  8vra  Uwat  rt  irdvra  iral 

90  ff.,  bt.  241    if.;    Teichmiiller,  /leVeiy  otttv.  •  •  wara    xwP«'  ««1 

Neue   Studien     zur     Qeioh.   der  ovSly    ju^ct.      Plato,    Crat.    tOJ 

Begri/e,  i  H.,  1876.  D,  403  A. 


68  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [$23 

which  least  of  all  has  a  permanent  consistency  or  allows 
it  in  another ;  and  he  consequently  understood  by  his 
fire  not  merely  flame,  but  warmth  in  general ;  for  which 
reason  it  is  also  designated  as  vapour  (dvaOvptao-is} 
or  breath  (tyi>xtf)'  Things  arise  from  fire  through  its 
transmutation  into  other  substances,  and  in  the  same 
way  they  return  to  it  again.  *  All  is  exchanged  for 
fire,  and  fire  for  all,  as  wares  for  gold,  and  gold  for 
wares  '  (<Fr.'  22).  But  as  this  process  of  transforma- 
tion never  stands  still,  it  never  produces  anything  perma- 
nent; everything  is  conceived  as  in  perpetual  transition 
from  one  state  into  its  opposite,  and  therefore  has  the 
•  -ontradictions,  between  which  it  moves,  contemporane- 
ously present  in  itself.  Strife  (7roA,e/*os)  is  the  rule 
of  the  world  (Attfij),  the  father  and  king  of  all  things 
('Fr.'  62,  44).  <That  which  strives  against  another 
supports  itself  (hv-ri^ovv  o-v^epov,  '  Fr.'  46).  « That 
which  separates,  comes  together  with  itself '  ('  Fr.'  45, 
according  to  Plato,  '  Sophist.'  242  D).  *  The  harmony 
of  the  world  rests  upon  opposite  tension,  like  that  of 
the  lyre  and  the  bow '  (7ra\ivrovost  others  read  ira\iv- 

T/3O7TOS,     apflOVlTf]     tCOfffJiOV     OKGXTTTSp     \VptJS    KOI    Tot;OVt 

'Fr.'  56).  Heracleitus  spoke,  therefore,  of  Zeus- 
Polemos,  and  censured  Homer  for  disparaging  Discord. 
But  not  less  strongly  did  he  maintain  that  the  ' hidden 
harmony'  of  nature  ever  reproduces  concord  frcm 
oppositions,  and  that  the  divine  law  ^//wj),  fate,  wisdom 
(yva>jjLr}),  the  universal  reason  (\6yos\  Zeus,  or  the 
Deity,  rules  all  things,  the  primitive  essence  recom- 
poses  itself  anew  in  all  things  according  to  fixed  laws, 
and  again  retires  from  them. 


!«]  HERACLEITU8.  69 

In  its  transmutation  the  primitive  essence  passes 
through  three  fundamental  forms:  out  of  fire  comes 
water,  from  water,  earth ;  and  in  the  opposite  direc- 
tion from  earth  comes  water,  and  from  water,  fire.  The 
former  is  the  way  downwards,  the  latter  the  way 
upwards,  and  that  both  lie  through  the  same  stages 
is  asserted  in  the  sentence  ('  Fr.'  69),  '  the  way  upwards 
and  the  way  downwards  is  one.'  All  things  are  con- 
tinually subject  to  this  change,  but  they  appear  to 
remain  the  same  so  long  as  the  same  number  of  sub- 
stances of  a  particular  kind  flows  into  them  from  the 
one  side  as  they  give  off  on  the  other.  A  prominent 
example  of  this  change  is  afforded  by  Heracleitus's 
proverbial  opinion  that  the  sun  is  new  every  day,  for 
the  fire  collected  in  the  boat  of  the  sun  is  extinguished 
in  the  evening  and  forms  itself  afresh  during  the  night 
from  the  vapours  of  the  sea.  Heracleitus  (in  harmony 
with  Anaximander  and  Anaximenes)  applies  the  same 
point  of  view  to  the  universe.  As  the  world  arose  from 
the  primitive  fire,  so  when  the  cosmical  year  has  run 
its  course  it  will  return  to  primitive  fire  again,  by 
means  of  conflagration,  in  order  to  be  again  recon- 
stituted from  the  same  substance  after  a  fixed  time ; 
and  thus  the  history  of  the  world  is  to  move,  in  end- 
less alternation,  between  the  state  of  divided  being 
(^pi)oyiO(7ui>77),  and  that  of  the  union  of  all  things  in 
the  primitive  fire  (/co'pos).  When  Schleiermacher, 
Hegel,  and  Lassalle  deny  that  Heracleitus  held  this 
doctrine,  their  opinion  contradicts  not  only  the  unani- 
mous testimony  of  the  ancients  since  Aristotle,  but 
likewise  the  utterances  of  Heracleitus  himself,  nor  cai 


70  PRE-SOCRAT1C  PHILOSOPHY.  [$22 

it  be  supported  by  the  passage  in  Plato,  *  Soph.'  242 
Of. 

The  soul  of  man  is  a  part  of  this  divine  fire ;  1  he 
purer  this  fire,  the  more  perfect  is  the  soul :  '  the 
dry  soul  is  the  wisest  and  best '  ('  Fr.'  74).  As,  how- 
ever, the  soul-fire  is  subject  like  all  else  to  perpetual 
transmutation,  it  must  be  supplied  by  the  senses  and 
the  breath  from  the  light  and  the  air  without  us. 
That  it  should  not  be  extinguished  at  the  departure 
of  the  soul  from  the  body,  but  should  continue  in  an 
individual  existence,  and  that  Heracleitus  should  ac- 
cordingly main'ain  like  the  Orpbics  that  the  souls 
passed  from  this  life  to  a  higher — for  all  this,  his 
physical  theory  affords  no  justification.  On  the  other 
hand  it  is  quite  consistent  that  the  philosopher  who,  in 
the  change  of  individual  things,  regards  nothing  but  the 
universal  law  as  permanent,  should  only  ascribe  value  to 
rational  knowledge,  directed  to  the  common  element 
('Fr.'  91),  should  declare  eyes  and  ears  to  be  'bad 
witnesses '  ('  Fr.'  4),  and  should  set  up  for  practical  con- 
duct the  principle  that  all  human  laws  sustain  them- 
selves by  One,  the  Divine  ('  Fr.'  91);  this,  therefore, 
man  must  follow,  but '  he  must  extinguish  arrogance  like 
a  conflagration'  ('  Fr.'  103).  From  trust  in  the  divine 
order  of  the  world  arises  that  contentment  (evapsa-TV)- 
<ris)  which  Heracleitus  is  said  to  have  declared  to 
be  the  highest  good ;  the  happiness  of  man,  he  is 
convinced,  depends  upon  himself:  f)6os  avOpwTrw 
Saifjitov  ('Fr.'  121).  The  well-being  of  the  common- 
wealth depends  upon  the  dominion  of  law :  '  the 
people  must  fight  for  law  as  for  its  walls '  ('  Fr.'  100)  ; 


§  22]  HERACLE1TV8.  71 

but  this  also  is  law,  says  the  aristocratic  philosopher, 
to  follow  the  counsel  of  an  individual  (*  Fr.'  110) ;  and 
against  the  democracy  which  had  banished  his  friend 
Hermodorus  he  launches  the  most  violent  censure. 
With  the  same  rude  independence  he  opposed  him- 
self to  the  religious  opinions  and  usages  of  his  people, 
attacking  with  sharp  language  not  only  the  Dionysiac 
orgies,  but  also  the  worship  of  statues  and  bloody 
sacrifices. 

The  school  of  Heracleitus  not  only  maintained 
itself  till  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  century  in  his 
own  country,  but  also  found  encouragement  in  Athens ; 
Cratylus,  the  teacher  of  Plato,  belonged  to  it.  But 
these  later  Heracleiteans,  and  Cratylus  in  particular, 
had  become  so  unmethodical  and  fanatical  in  their 
procedure,  and  had  fallen  into  such  extravagances,  that 
Plato  and  Aristotle  both  use  very  contemptuous 
language  respecting  them. 

§  23.  Empedoclea. 

Empedocles  of  Agrigentum  was  born  about  495-0 
B.C.,  and  died  at  the  age  of  sixty,  about  435-0  B.C.  By 
his  impassioned  eloquence  and  practical  energy,  he,  like 
his  father  Meton,  long  maintained  himself  at  the  head 
of  the  Agrigentine  democracy ;  but  he  attached  still 
more  importance  to  the  functions  of  religious  teacher, 
prophet,  physician,  and  worker  of  miracles,  which  his 
remarkable  personality,  resembling  that  of  Pythagoras, 
enabled  him  to  exercise.  Concerning  his  death  many 
romantic  stories,  some  deifying  him,  others  depreciatory, 
early  came  into  circulation  ;  the  most  probable  account 


73  PRR-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§28 

is  that  having  finally  lost  the  popular  favour,  he  died 
an  exile  in  the  Peloponnesus.  Of  the  writings  which 
bear  his  name,  only  the  two  didactic  poems,  the  </>uo-4/ea 
and  the  Ka6apn,oi,  can  with  certainty  be  ascribed  to 
him ;  numerous  fragments  of  both  have  been  preserved.1 
In  his  mystic  theology,  Empedocles  is  allied  with 
the  Orphic- Pythagorean  doctrines  ;  in  his  physics,  on 
the  other  hand,  he  seeks  a  middle  course  between 
Parmenides  (whose  disciple  he  is  called  by  Alcida- 
mas,  ap.  Diog.  viii.  56)  and  the  theory  of  the  universe 
which  Parmenides  opposed.  With  Parmenides,  he 
denies  that  origin  and  decay  in  the  strict  sense  are 
thinkable ;  but  he  cannot  resolve  on  that  account  to 
oppose  the  plurality  of  things,  their  becoming  and 
variability ;  and  so,  perhaps  following  the  example  of 
Leucippus,  he  adopts  the  expedient  of  reducing  becom- 
ing to  a  combination,  decay  to  a  separation,  and  change 
to  the  partial  separation  and  combination,  of  underived 
imperishable  and  invariable  substances.  These  sub- 
stances, however,  he  conceives  as  qualitatively  distinct 
from  each  other,  and  quantitatively  divisible ;  not  as 
atoms,  but  as  elements.  He  is  the  first  philosopher  who 
introduced  this  conception  of  elements  ;  the  term  indeed 
is  of  later  origin  ;  Empedocles  calls  them  the  *  roots  of 
all.'  Also  the  fourfold  number  of  the  elements,  fire,  air, 
water,  earth,  originates  with  Empedocles.  Neither  of 
these  four  substances  can  pass  over  into  another,  or 
combine  with  another  to  form  a  third ;  all  mixture  of 


1  Collected  and  explained  by  (1838);  Stein,  Emvedoolit  Fragm 
Sturz,  Empedooles  (1805);  Ear-  (1852);  Mullach, */Va^»».  PAd.  J 
sten,  Empedoclis  Cam.  Rel.  13  «. 


§  28]  EMPEDOCLES.  73 

substances  consists  in  small  particles  of  them  being 
mechanically  assembled  together;  and  the  influence, 
which  substantially  separated  bodies  exert  on  each 
other,  is  brought  about  by  small  particles  (a-TroppoaC)  of 
one  becoming  detached  and  entering  into  the  pores  of  the 
other;  where  the  pores  and  effluences  of  two  bodies 
cArrespond  to  one  another,  they  attract  each  other,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  magnet  and  iron.  In  order,  however, 
that  the  substances  may  come  together  or  separate, 
moving  forces  must  also  be  present,  and  of  these  there 
must  be  two — a  combining  and  a  separating  force. 
Empedocles  calls  the  former  Love  (^tXor^j,  <rropyij\ 
or  also  Harmony,  and  the  latter  Hate  (VSIKOS,  KOTOS). 
But  these  forces  do  not  always  operate  in  the  same 
manner.  As  Heracleitus  represents  the  world  as 
periodically  coming  forth  from  the  primitive  fire  and 
again  returning  to  it,  so  Empedocles  says  that  the 
elements  are  in  endless  alternation,  now  brought  to- 
gether into  unity  by  love,  and  now  separated  by  hate. 
In  the  former  of  these  conditions,  as  a  perfect  mingling 
of  all  substances,  the  world  forms  the  globe-shaped 
sphere,  which  is  described  as  a  blessed  god  because  all 
hate  is  banished  from  it.  The  opposite  counterpart  of 
this  is  the  entire  separation  of  the  elements.  Between 
these  extremes  lie  those  conditions  of  the  world  in 
which  individual  natures  arise  and  decay.  In  the 
formation  of  the  present  world  love  first  produced  a 
whirling  motion  in  the  midst  of  the  substances  separated 
by  hate,  and  these  were  gradually  drawn  into  it ;  from 
this  mixture,  through  the  rotatory  movement,  air  or 
aether  first  separated  itself,  and  thence  was  formed  the 


74  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§23 

arch  of  the  heavens ;  next  fire,  which  occupied  the 
place  immediately  below  the  aether ;  from  the  earth 
water  was  pressed  out  by  the  force  of  the  rotation,  and 
from  the  evaporation  of  the  water  came  once  more  air, 
i.e.  the  lower  atmosphere.  The  sky  consists  of  two 
halves,  one  of  fire,  the  other  dark,  with  masses  of  fire 
sprinkled  in  it;  the  former  is  the  heaven  of  the  day- 
time, the  latter  of  the  night.  The  sun,  Empedocles, 
like  the  Pythagoreans,  held  to  be  a  mirror  which 
collects  and  throws  back  the  rays  of  the  heavenly  fire, 
as  the  moon  those  of  the  sun.  The  swiftness  of  the 
rotation  occasions  the  earth  and  the  whole  universe  to 
remain  in  their  place. 

From  the  earth,  according  to  Empedocles,  pla>its  and 
animals  were  produced  ;  but  as  the  union  of  substances 
by  love  only  came  about  by  degrees,  so  in  the  origina- 
tion of  living  creatures  he  supposed  that  a  gradual 
progress  led  to  more  perfect  results.  First  separate 
masses  were  thrown  up  from  the  earth,  then  these 
united  together  as  it  chanced  and  produced  strange 
and  monstrous  forms  ;  similarly  when  the  present 
animals  and  human  beings  arose,  they  were  at  first 
shapeless  lumps  which  only  received  their  organism  in 
course  of  time.  That  Empedocles,  on  the  contrary, 
explained  the  construction  of  organisms  according  to 
design  by  the  theory,  that  of  the  creations  cf  chance 
only  those  capable  of  life  maintained  themselves,  is 
neither  probable  in  itself,  nor  is  it  asserted  by  Ari- 
stotle (*  Phys.'  ii.  8).1  He  seems  to  have  occupied  him- 

1  See  my  treatise,  Uebtr  die  PhiloL  and  Hist.  Abh.  der  Berl 
griechischen  Vorgdnger  Dancin'i,  Akad.  1878,  8.  116  ff. 


§  23]  EMPEDOCLE8.  76 

self  considerably  with  the  subject  of  living  creatures. 
Concerning  their  generation  and  development,  the 
elementary  composition  of  the  bones  and  flesh,  the 
process  of  breathing  ^  which  is  effected  partly  through 
the  skin)  and  similar  phenomena,  he  set  up  con- 
jectures which  were  of  their  kind  very  ingenious.  He 
tried  to  explain  the  activities  of  the  senses  by  his 
doctrine  of  the  pores  and  effluences :  in  regard  to 
sight,  he  thought  that  emanations  from  the  fire  and 
water  of  the  eye  meet  the  light  coming  towards  the 
eye.  To  explain  the  activity  of  thought,  he  brought 
forward  the  general  principle  that  each  element  is 
recognised  by  the  similar  element  in  us !  (as  also 
desire  is  evoked  by  what  is  akin  and  aversion  by  what 
is  opposed),  and  that  therefore  the  quality  of  thought 
is  regulated  according  to  the  constitution  of  the  body 
and  especially  of  the  blood,  which  is  the  chief  seat  of 
thought.  This  materialism,  however,  does  not  deter 
him  any  more  than  Parmenides  from  placing  sensible 
decidedly  below  rational  knowledge. 

With  this  system  of  natural  philosophy  Empedocles 
made  no  attempt  to  reconcile  scientifically  his  mystic 
doctrine  (allied  to  that  of  the  Orphics  and  Pytha- 
goreans) of  the  sinking  down  of  souls  into  terrestrial 
existence,  of  their  transmigration  into  the  bodies  of 
plants,  animals,  and  men,  and  of  the  subsequent  re- 
turn of  the  purified  souls  to  the  gods  ;  nor  his 
prohibition  of  animal  sacrifices  and  of  animal  food. 
He  did  not  even  try  to  explain  away  the  contradiction 
between  them,  though  it  is  evident  that  these  doctrines 

1  >o/p  n<v  ?<kf>  youa?  o7ru>ira/*€Kt <kc.    Fragm.  ed.  Mull,  v  378. 

I 


76  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§  23 

involve  the  conception  that  strife  and  opposition  are 
the  cause  of  all  evil,  and  that  unity  and  harmony  are 
supremely  blessed.  Nor  do  we  know  whether  and 
where  room  was  left  in  the  physics  of  Empedocles  for 
the  golden  age  to  which  a  fragment  (v.  417  M.) 
refers ;  and  if  the  philosophic  poet  (v.  389)  has,  like 
Xenophanes,  set  up  a  purer  idea  of  God  in  opposition 
to  the  anthropomorphic  presentation  of  divinities,  it  is 
equally  hard  to  say  where  this  idea  could  have  found  a 
place  in  his  physical  system  or  even  how  it  could  ha\e 
been  compatible  with  it. 

§  24.  The  Atomistic  School 

The  founder  of  the  atomistic  school  was  Leucippus, 
a  contemporary  of  Anaxagoras  and  Empedocles,  which 
is  the  nearest  approximation  we  can  make  to  his  date. 
Theophrastus  (ap.  Simpl.  « Phys.'  28.  4)  calls  him  a 
disciple  of  Parmenides,  but  does  not  know  whether  he 
came  from  Miletus  or  Elea.  The  writings  from  which 
Aristotle  and  Theophrastus  took  their  accounts  of  his 
doctrines  seem  to  have  been  subsequently  found 
among  those  of  Democritus.1  This  renowned  philo- 
sopher and  student  of  nature,  a  citizen  of  Abdera,  was, 
according  to  his  own  assertion  (Diog.  ix.  41),  still  young 
when  Anaxagoras  was  already  old  (vsos  icard.  trpsa-^v- 
TIJV  *AvaJ;ay6pav}  ;  but  that  he  was  exactly  forty  years 
younger  than  Anaxagoras,  and  therefore  born  about 

1  Hence  we  can  explain  why  Jahrb.  f.  Phil.  1882,  s.  741  ff.) 

Epicurus  denied  the  existence  of  attempts  to  prove  that  Epicurua 

Leucippus  (Diog.  x.  13).     When,  was  right,  he  is  amply  confuted 

however,  Rohde  (  Ueber  Leueipp  by  Diels  (Verhandl.  der  36.  Phi- 

und  Democrit,  Verhandlungen  der  lologenvers.  g.  86  ff.> 
84.  Philologenversammlung,  1881. 


$»4]  THE  ATOMISTIC  SCHOOL.  77 

460  B.C.,  seems  to  be  an  unfounded  assumption  of  Apol- 
lodorus.  Aristotle  ('Part.  An.'i.  1,  642  a.  26;  «  Metaph.' 
xiii.  4,  1078  b.  17)  places  him  as  a  philosopher  before 
Socrates.  His  passion  for  knowledge  led  him  to  Egypt 
and  probably  also  to  Babylonia,  but  whether  his  inter- 
course with  Leucippus,  whose  disciple  he  was  according 
to  Aristotle  and  Theophrastus,  is  to  be  included  in  the 
five  years  he  spent  abroad  (*  Fr.'  v.  6  Mull.)  we  do  not 
know.  He  was  acquainted  also  with  other  older  and 
contemporary  philosophers  besides  Leucippus,  being 
himself  the  first  of  the  savants  and  natural  philo- 
sophers of  his  time.  The  year  of  his  death  is  unknown; 
his  age  is  variously  given  as  ninety  years,  a  hundred, 
and  even  more.  Of  his  writings  numerous  fragments ' 
have  been  preserved,  but  it  is  difficult,  especially  in 
regard  to  the  moral  sayings,  to  discriminate  what  is 
spurious. 

The  Atomistic  theory,  in  its  essential  constituents, 
is  to  be  regarded  as  the  work  of  Leucippus,  while  its 
application  to  all  parts  of  natural  science  appears  to 
have  been  chiefly  that  of  his  disciple.  Leucippus  (as 
Aristotle  says,  *Gen.  et  Corr.'  i.  8)  was  convinced,  like 
Parmenides,  of  the  impossibility  of  an  absolute  genesis 
and  decay  ;  but  he  would  not  deny  the  plurality  of 
things,  motion,  nor  genesis  and  decay  (i.e.  of  composite 
things) ;  and  since  this,  as  Parmenides  had  shown, 
cannot  be  conceived  without  Non-Being,  he  main- 
tained that  Non-Being  exists  as  well  as  Being.  But 
Being  (as  in  Pannemdes)  is  that  which  fills  space,  the 

Collected  by  Mullach,  Democr.  frtum.  1843 ;  Praam    PW.  i 


78  PKE-SOCEAT1C  PHILOSOPHY.  [§24 

Fall ;  Non-Being  is  the  Void.  Leucippus  and  Demo- 
critus,  therefore,  declared  the  Plenum  and  the  Void  to 
be  the  primary  constituents  of  all  things ;  but,  in 
order  to  be  able  to  explain  phenomena  in  reference  to 
them,  they  conceived  the  Plenum  as  divided  into  innu- 
merable atoms,  which  on  account  of  their  minuteness  are 
not  perceptible  separately ;  these  are  separated  from  one 
another  by  the  Void,  but  must  themselves  be  indivi- 
sible because  they  completely  fill  their  space  and  have 
no  vacuum  in  them;  for  this  reason  they  are  called 
atoms  (aropa)  or  also,  { thick  bodies  '  (vaa-ra).  These 
atoms  are  constituted  precisely  like  the  Being  of  Par- 
meuides,  if  we  imagine  this  as  split  up  into  innumer- 
able parts  and  placed  in  an  unlimited  empty  space ; 
underived,  imperishable,  homogeneous  throughout  as  to 
their  substance,  they  are  distinct  from  one  another  only 
by  their  form  and  magnitude,  and  are  capable  of  no 
qualitative  change  but  only  of  change  of  place.  To 
them  alone,  therefore,  we  must  refer  the  qualities  and 
changes  of  things.  As  all  atoms  consist  of  the  same 
matter,  their  weight  must  exactly  correspond  with  their 
gize  ;  consequently,  if  two  compound  bodies  of  similar 
magnitude  have  a  different  weight,  the  reason  can 
only  be  that  there  are  more  empty  spaces  in  the  one 
than  in  the  other.  All  derivation,  or  genesis,  of  the 
composite  consists  in  the  coming  together  of  separate 
atoms ;  and  all  decay  in  the  separation  of  combined 
atoms ;  and  similarly  with  all  kinds  of  change.  All 
operation  of  things  on  each  other  is  a  mechanical  oper- 
ation, through  pressure  and  impact  j  all  influence  from 
a  distance  (as  between  the  magnet  and  iron,  light  and 


§24J  THE  ATOMISTIC  SCHOOL.  79 

the  eye)  is  effected  by  effluences.  All  properties  of 
things  depend  upon  the  form,  magnitude,  position,  and 
arrangement  of  their  atoms ;  the  sensible  qualities 
which  we  ascribe  to  them  merely  express  the  manner 
in  which  they  affect  our  senses :  vofjup  y\v/cv,  vo^m 
•mtcpov,  vofjiK)  OspfioVj  vo/j,ca  -^rv^pov^  vdpy  xpoiijy  erey 
Ss  arofia  Kal  icsvov.  (Dem.  '  Fr.  Phys.'  1.) 

On  account  of  their  weight,  all  the  atoms  from 
eternity  move  downwards  in  infinite  space ;  but,  accord- 
ing to  the  atomists,  the  larger  and  therefore  heavier 
atoms  fall  more  quickly  than  the  smaller  and  lighter, 
and  strike  against  them;  thus  the  smaller  are  impelled 
upwards,  and  from  the  collision  of  these  two  motions, 
from  the  concussion  and  rebound  of  the  atoms,  a  whirl- 
ing movement  is  produced.  In  consequence  of  this, 
on  the  one  hand  the  homogeneous  atoms  are  brought 
together,  and  on  the  other,  through  the  entanglement 
of  variously  shaped  atoms,  complexes  of  atoms,  or 
worlds,  segregated  and  externally  sundered,  are  formed. 
As  motion  has  no  beginning,  and  the  mass  of  atoms 
and  of  empty  space  has  no  limits,  there  must  always 
have  been  innumerable  multitudes  of  such  worlds 
existing  under  the  most  various  conditions,  and  having 
the  most  various  forms.  Of  these  innumerable  worlds 
our  world  is  one.  The  conjectures  of  Democritus  con- 
cerning its  origin,  the  formation  of  the  heavenly  bodies 
in  the  air,  their  gradual  drying  up  and  ignition,  &c., 
are  in  harmony  with  his  general  presuppositions.  The 
earth  is  supposed  by  Leucippus  and  Democritus  to  be 
a  round  plate,  floating  on  the  air.  The  heavenly  bodies, 
of  which  the  two  largest,  the  sun  and  moon,  only 


80  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§2* 

entered  onr  universe  after  the  earth  had  begun  to  be 
formed,  before  the  inclination  of  the  earth's  axis, 
revolved  laterally  around  the  earth.  In  regard  to  the 
four  elements,  Democritus  thought  that  fire  consists  of 
small  smooth  and  round  atoms,  while  in  the  other 
elements  various  kinds  of  atoms  are  intermingled. 

Organic  beings  came  forth  from  the  terrestrial 
slime,  and  to  these  Democritus  seems  to  have  devoted 
special  attention.  He  was,  however,  chiefly  occupied 
with  man;  and  though  the  structure  of  the  human 
body  is  an  object  of  the  highest  admiration  to  him, 
he  ascribes  still  greater  value  to  the  soul  and  spiritual 
life.  The  soul,  indeed,  he  can  only  explain  as  some- 
thing corporeal :  it  consists  of  fine  smooth  and  round 
atoms,  and  therefore  of  fire  which  is  distributed 
through  the  whole  body,  and  by  the  process  of  inhala- 
tion is  hindered  from  escaping  and  is  also  replenished 
from  the  outer  air  ;  but  the  particular  activities  of  the 
soul  have  their  seat  in  particular  organs.  After  death, 
the  soul-atoms  are  scattered.  Nevertheless,  the  soul 
is  the  noblest  and  divinest  element  in  man,  and  in  all 
other  things  there  is  as  much  soul  and  reason  as  there 
is  warm  matter  in  them :  of  the  air,  for  example, 
Democritus  said  that  there  must  be  much  reason  and 
soul  (vovy  and  -^v^)  in  it,  otherwise  we  could  not 
receive  them  into  us  through  the  breath  (Arist. 
*  De  Respir.'  4).  Perception  consists  in  the  change 
which  is  produced  in  the  soul  by  the  effluences  going 
forth  from  things  and  entering  through  the  organs  of 
the  senses  ;  for  example,  the  cause  of  sight  is  that  the 
images  («Z8a>Xa,  SetxeXa)  flying  off  from  objects  give 


§24]  THE  ATOMISTIC  SCHOOL.  81 

their  shape  to  the  intervening  air,  and  this  comes  in 
contact  with  the  effluences  from  our  eyes.  Each 
particular  kind  of  atom  is  perceived  by  the  cor- 
responding kind  in  us.  Thought  also  consists  in  a 
similar  change  of  the  body  of  the  soul  :  it  is  true, 
when  the  soul  has  attained  the  proper  temperature 
through  the  movements  it  experiences.  This  material- 
ism, however,  does  not  prevent  Democritus,  like  other 
philosophers,  from  discriminating  sharply  between  per- 
ception and  thought  (7^/117  OTCOTMJ  and  ^vr]aii])  in 
respect  of  their  relative  value;  and  only  expecting 
information  concerning  the  true  constitution  of  things 
from  the  latter  ;  though  at  the  same  time  he  admits 
that  our  knowledge  of  things  must  begin  with  observa- 
tion. It  is  also,  no  doubt,  the  imperfection  of  the 
sensible  knowledge  which  occasions  the  complaints  of 
Democritus  as  to  the  uncertainty  and  limitations  of  our 
knowledge  ;  but  he  is  not  therefore  to  be  considered  a 
sceptic,  for  he  expressly  opposed  the  scepticism  of  Prot- 
agoras. As  the  value  of  our  knowledge  is  conditioned  by 
elevation  above  the  sensible,  so  likewise  is  the  value  of 
our  life.  That  which  is  most  desirable  is  to  enjoy  oneself 
as  much,  and  to  vex  oneself  as  little,  as  possible  ;  but 
'  ev8at/j,oma  and  tcaKoSai/jiovla  of  soul  dwell  not  in  gold 
nor  in  flocks  and  herds,  but  the  soul  is  the  dwelling  of 
the  daemon.'  Happiness  essentially  consists  in  cheer- 
fulness and  peace  of  mind  (evdvpti),1  evsa-ra),  appovfy, 
and  .aOapfiif)}  and  these  are  most  surely  attained  by 


1  n.  tiri6ufj.tTis  is  the  title  of  been  taken,  so  far  as  they  are 

the  treatise  from  which  all  or  genuine.    See  Herzel  ill  Hermet, 

much  of  the  ethical  fragments  of  xiv.  351-407. 
the   philosopher  seem   to   have 


82  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§24 

moderation  of  the  desires  and  symmetry  of  life 
(ffVfMnsrplr}).  This  is  the  spirit  of  the  practical  precepts 
of  Democritus,  which  show  abundant  experience, 
subtle  observation,  and  pure  principles.  He  does  not 
appear  to  have  tried  to  combine  them  scientifically 
with  his  physical  theory;  and  if  the  leading  thought 
of  his  ethics  lies  essentially  in  the  proposition  that  the 
happiness  of  man  entirely  depends  upon  his  state  of 
mind,  there  is  no  proof  that  he  undertook  to  establish 
this  proposition  by  general  reflections,  as  Socrates  did 
with  his  maxim:  '  Virtue  consists  in  Knowledge.' 
Aristotle  consequently  reckons  Democritus,  in  spite  of 
his  moral  sayings,  among  the  Physicists,  and  makes 
scientific  ethics  begin  with  Socrates  ('Metaph.'  xiii. 
4,  1078  b.  17 ;  'Part.  An.'  i.  2,  642  a.  26). 

The  theory  of  Democritus  concerning  the  gods  of 
the  popular  belief  sounds  strange  to  us,  but  in  truth  it 
is  quite  consistent  with  his  explanation  of  nature. 
Though  he  found  it  impossible  to  share  that  belief  as 
such,  it  nevertheless  seemed  to  him  necessary  to 
explain  it.  For  this  purpose,  while  he  did  not  discard 
the  theory  that  extraordinary  natural  phenomena  have 
occasioned  their  being  attributed  to  the  gods  as  their 
authors,  or  that  certain  universal  conceptions  are 
presented  in  the  gods,  another  and  more  realistic  expla- 
nation harmonised  better  with  his  sensualism.  As  the 
popular  religion  peopled  the  atmosphere  with  daemons, 
so  Democritus  supposed  that  in  the  atmosphere  were 
beings  of  a  similar  form  to  men,  but  far  surpassing 
them  in  size  and  duration  of  existence,  whose  influ- 
ences were  sometimes  beneficent,  and  sometime6 


§24]       .  THE  ATOMISTIC  SCHOOL.  88 

malign ;  the  images  (vide  sup.  p.  80)  which  emanate 
from  them,  and  appear  to  men  either  in  sleeping  or 
waking,  came  to  be  regarded  as  gods.  Democritus 
also  attempted  to  give  a  naturalistic  explanation  of  pro- 
phetic dreams,  and  the  influence  of  the  evil  eye,  by 
means  of  his  doctrine  of  images  and  effluences ;  he 
likewise  thought  that  natural  indications  of  certain 
incidents  were  to  be  deduced  from  the  entrails  of 
sacrificial  animals. 

The  most  important  disciple  of  the  school  of 
Democritus  is  Metrodorus  of  Chios,  who  was  instructed 
either  by  Democritus  himself  or  by  his  scholar  Nessus. 
While  he  agreed  with  Democritus  in  the  main  features 
of  his  doctrine,  he  diverged  from  him  as  to  the  details 
of  his  natural  philosophy  in  many  points,  and  drew 
from  his  sensualism  sceptical  inferences,  by  which, 
however,  he  can  hardly  have  intended  to  deny  the 
possibility  of  knowledge.  Anaxarchus  o  EyScu/-t(w/coy, 
who  accompanied  Alexander,  and  was  more  meritorious 
in  his  death  than  in  his  life,  is  a  disciple  of  Metrodorus 
or  of  his  scholar  Diogenes.  With  Metrodorus,  perhaps, 
Nausiphanes  is  also  to  be  connected,  who  introduced 
Epicurus  to  the  doctrine  of  Democritus;  but  he  is 
likewise  said  to  have  attended  Pyrrho  the  Sceptic. 

§  25.  Anaxagoras. 

Anaxagoras  of  Clazomenae,  according  to  Apollodorus 
(ap.  Diog.  ii.  7,  who  probably  follows  Demetrius 
Phaler.),  born  in  01.  70-1,  or  500  B.C.,  devoted  himself 
to  science,  to  the  neglect  of  his  property,  and  distin- 
guished himself  greatly  as  a  mathematician.  Con- 


84  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.        .      [§2& 

eerning  his  teachers  nothing  is  known  ;  some  modems, 
without  any  sufficient  ground,  attempt  to  make  him  a 
disciple  of  Hermotimus  of  Clazomenae,  a  far  more  ancient 
and  mythical  wonder-worker,  into  whose  legends  (accord- 
ing to  Arist.  *  Metaph.'  984  b.  18)  Anaxagoras'  doctrine 
of  vovs  was  at  an  early  time  interpolated.  In  Athens, 
whither  he  migrated  (according  to  Diogenes,  ii.  7,  about 
464-2  B.C.),  he  came  into  close  relations  with  Pericles  ; 
accused  by  enemies  of  that  statesman  of  denying  the  gods 
of  the  State,  he  was  forced  to  leave  Athens  (434-3  B.C.). 
He  removed  to  Lampsacus,  where  he  died  in  428  B.C. 
(Apollodor.  ap.  Diog.  ii.  7).  From  his  treatise  irepl  <j>v<r- 
eeos,  in  the  composition  of  which  he  seems  to  have  been 
already  acquainted  with  the  doctrines  of  Empedocles  and 
Leucippus,  important  fragments  have  been  preserved.1 
Anaxagoras  agrees  with  these  philosophers  that 
genesis  and  decay  in  the  strict  sense  are  unthinkable, 
that  all  genesis  consists  merely  in  the  combination, 
and  all  decay  in  the  separation,  of  substances  already 
existing.'  But  the  motion  through  which  the  com- 
bination and  separation  of  substances  is  brought  about 
he  knows  not  how  to  explain  by  matter  as  such  ;  still 
less  the  well-ordered  motion  which  has  produced  such 
a  beautiful  whole,  and  so  full  of  design,  as  the  world. 
This  can  only  be  the  work  of  an  essential  nature, 
whose  knowledge  and  power  extends  over  all  things, 


1  In  Mullach,  Pragm.  i.  243  fordAXvofcu    OVK    opOws 

ff.,    explained    by     Schanbach,  ol    "EAA.??^ej.     ovfov    yiip    x 

Ana*.  Fragmenta,  1827.    Schorn,  ylrfrai   ovSe   &v6\\vreu   A\A'     *b 

Anax.  et    Diogenit    Fragmenta,  UVTWV  xP'n^™1'  ffvnn.(<ryfral  ft 

1829.  KO!  SiaKpbfTcu  Ko2  OVTCOS  kv 

9Frag.  17  m.  (Simpl.    Phyt.  KaXoltv  r6  r«  yfaffBcu 

168,     20).      rk    «i     yivtffBtu    *a\  <r6a> 


§  26]  ANAXAGORA8.  86 

the  work  of  a  thinking,  rational,  and  almighty  essence, 
of  mind  or  vovsj  and  this  power  and  rationality  can 
only  belong  to  vovg  if  it  be  mixed  with  nothing  else, 
and  is  therefore  restrained  by  no  other.  The  concep- 
tion of  mind  as  distinguished  from  matter  thus  forms 
the  leading  thought  of  Anaxagoras ;  and  the  most 
essential  mark  for  characterising  this  distinction  is 
that  mind  is  altogether  simple,  and  matter  altogether 
compound.  Mind  is  *  mixed  with  nothing,'  *  for  itself 
alone '  (povvos  ifi  |O>UTOI>),  *  the  rarest  and  purest  of 
all  things;'  in  these  expressions  its  incorporeality  is 
not  indeed  adequately  described,  but  yet  is  unmistak- 
ably intended,  while  the  question  of  its  personality  is 
still  altogether  untouched  by  the  philosopher.  Its 
operation  essentially  consists  in  the  separation  of  the 
mixed,  and  to  this  separation  its  knowledge  also  may 
be  reduced,  as  a  discrimination.  Matter,  on  the  contrary, 
before  mind  has  worked  upon  it,  presents  a  mass  in 
winch  nothing  is  sundered  from  another.  But  as  all 
things  arise  out  of  this  mass  through  mere  separation 
of  their  constituents,  it  must  not  be  conceived  as  a 
homogeneous  mass,  nor  as  a  mixture  of  such  simple 
primitive  substances  as  the  elements  of  Empedocles, 
or  the  atoms ;  according  to  Anaxagoras  it  rather  con- 
sists of  a  medley  of  innumerable,  underived,  imperish- 
able, unchangeable,  invisibly  small,  but  yet  not 
indivisible  corpuscles  of  specific  quality ;  particles  of 
gold,  flesh,  bones,  &c.  Anaxagoras  describes  these  his 
primitive  substances  as  (nrepfj,aTa  or  xprffAara ;  later 
writers  call  them,  in  half-Aristotelian  terminology, 


88  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§25 

In  harmony  with  these  presuppositions  Anaxagoras 
began  his  cosmogony  with  a  description  of  the  state  in 
which  all  substances  were  entirely  mingled  together 
('  Fr.'  1 :  QIIOV  'iravra  xprfpara  rjv).  Mind  effected  their 
separation  by  producing  a  whirling  motion  at  one 
point,  which  spreading  from  thence  drew  in  more  and 
more  particles  of  the  infinite  mass,  and  will  continue 
to  do  so.  That  Anaxagoras  supposed  mind  to  inter- 
fere at  other  stages  of  the  formation  of  the  universe  is 
not  stated ;  Plato  (« Phsedo,'  97  B  ff.)  and  Aristotle 
(« Metaph.'  i.  4,  985  a.  18 ;  7,  988  b.  6),  on  the  other 
hand,  both  censure  him  for  not  having  applied  his 
newly  discovered  principle  to  a  teleological  explanation 
of  nature,  and  for  confining  himself  like  his  predecessors 
to  blindly  working  material  causes.  Through  the  whirl- 
ing motion,  the  substances  drawn  into  it  are  divided 
into  two  masses,  of  which  one  comprehends  the  warm, 
the  dry,  the  light,  and  the  thin ;  the  other  the  cold, 
the  moist,  the  dark,  and  the  dense;  these  are  the 
aether  and  the  air,  or  more  precisely,  vapour,  fog,  arjp. 
The  division  of  substances  proceeds  with  the  continued 
movement,  but  never  comes  to  an  end ;  substances  are 
in  all  parts  of  all  things,  and  only  on  this  account  is  it 
possible  that  a  thing  becomes  changed  by  the  emergence 
of  substances ;  if  snow  were  not  black — that  is,  if  dark- 
ness were  not  in  it  as  well  as  brightness — it  could  not 
be  changed  into  water.  The  rare  and  the  warm  were 
carried  by  the  rotation  towards  the  circumference,  the 
dense  and  the  moist  into  the  centre;  the  earth  is 
formed  from  the  latter,  and  Anaxagoras,  like  the  older 
lonians,  conceives  it  as  a  flat  plate  borne  upon  the  air. 


§2*]  AXAXAGORAS.  87 

The  heavenly  bodies  consist  of  masses  of  stone,  which 
are  torn  from  the  earth  by  the  force  of  the  rotation, 
and  hurled  into  the  air,  where  they  become  ignited. 
These  at  first  moved  horizontally,  and  subsequently, 
from  the  inclination  of  the  earth's  axis,  around,  and  at 
one  part  of  their  course,  under  the  earth.  The  moon, 
Anaxagoras  thought,  was  like  the  earth  and  inhabited ; 
the  sun,  which  is  many  times  larger  than  the  Pelo- 
ponnesus, gave  the  greater  part  of  their  light  to  the 
moon  and  all  the  other  stars.  Through  the  solar  heat, 
the  earth,  which  at  first  was  composed  of  slime  and 
mud,  in  course  of  time  dried  up. 

From  the  terrestrial  slime  which  fructified  the 
germs  contained  in  the  air  and  in  the  aether,  living 
creatures  were  produced.  That  which  animates  them 
is  mind,  and  this  is  the  same  in  all  things,  including 
plants,  but  is  apportioned  to  them  in  different  measure. 
In  man,  even  sensible  perception  is  the  work  of  mind, 
but  it  is  effected  by  means  of  the  bodily  organs 
(in  which  it  is  called  forth  not  by  the  homogeneous  but 
by  the  opposite),  and  is  therefore  inadequate.  Keason 
alone  guarantees  true  knowledge.  How  entirely 
Anaxagoras  himself  lived  for  his  inquiries,  we  know 
from  some  of  his  apophthegms;  and  some  further 
utterances  of  his  which  are  related  reveal  a  noble  and 
earnest  view  of  life.  That  he  occupied  himself  with 
ethics  in  a  scientific  manner,  tradition  does  not  assert; 
and  not  one  religious  philosophical  maxim  is  known  to 
have  emanated  from  him.  Personally  he  maintains 
towards  the  popular  religion  an  attitude  of  full 
scientific  freedom,  and  sought  to  give  a  naturalistic 


88  PRE-SOCHATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  f*  25 

explanation  of  reputed  miracles,  such  as  the  meteoric 
stone  of  ^gospotamos. 

Of  the  pupils  of  Anaxagoras,  among  whom  may  be 
reckoned  Euripides,  Metrodorus  of  Lampsacus  is  only 
known  by  his  allegorical  interpretation  of  the  Homeric 
mythology.  We  have  a  little  more  information  about 
Archelaus  of  Athens,  the  supposed  teacher  of  Socrates. 
Though  agreeing  with  Anaxagoras  in  other  points,  this 
physicist  approaches  more  nearly  to  Anaximenes  and 
Diogenes  in  that  he  named  the  original  mass  of  matter 
air,  represented  spirit  as  mingled  in  air,  and  termed  the 
separation  of  materials  rarefaction  and  condensation. 
The  masses  which  were  first  separated  in  this  manner 
he  called  the  warm  and  cold.  The  statement  that  he 
derived  the  distinction  of  good  and  bad  from  custom 
only  (Diog.  ii.  16)  appears  to  be  due  to  a  mistake. 
As  he  is  never  mentioned  by  Aristotle,  it  is  probable 
that  he  was  not  of  much  scientific  importance. 

HI.  THE  SOPHISTS. 

f  26.  Origin  and  Character  of  Sophisticism. 
From  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century,  there  began 
to  prevail  among  the  Greeks  certain  views  the  dis- 
semination of  which  after  some  decades  wrought  an 
important  ohange  in  the  manner  of  thought  of  the 
cultured  circles  and  in  the  tendency  of  scientific 
life.  Already  the  conflict  of  philosophic  theories,  and 
the  boldness  with  which  they  opposed  the  ordinary 
mode  of  presentation,  tended  to  excite  mistrust  against 
these  attempts  at  a  scientific  explanation  of  the  world. 


$26]  CHARACTER  OF  SOPHIStlCISM.  89 

Further,  since  a  Parmenides  and  a  Heracleitus,  an 
Empedocles  and  a  Democritus  had  disputed  the  truth 
of  sensible  perception,  more  general  doubt  in  the 
capacity  of  man  for  knowledge  might  the  more  easily  be 
connected  therewith,  because  the  materialism  of  these 
philosophers  furnished  them  with  no  means  of  estab- 
lishing scientifically  the  higher  truth  of  rational  know- 
ledge; and  even  Anaxagoras  did  not  employ  hig 
doctrine  of  vovs  for  this  purpose.  Still  more  impera- 
tively, however,  did  the  general  development  of  Greek 
national  life  demand  a  change  in  the  direction  of 
scientific  activity.  The  greater  and  more  rapid  was 
the  progress  of  universal  culture  since  the  Persian  War 
in  the  whole  of  Hellas,  and  above  all  in  Athens,  which 
was  now  the  centre  of  its  intellectual  and  political  life, 
the  more  did  the  necessity  of  a  special  preparation  for 
political  activity  assert  itself  in  regard  to  those  who 
desired  to  distinguish  themselves ;  the  more  com- 
pletely victorious  democracy  gradually  set  aside  all 
the  limits  which  custom  and  law  had  hitherto  placed  to 
the  will  of  the  sovereign  people,  and  the  more  brilliant 
the  prospects  thus  opened  to  anyone  who  could  win 
over  the  people  to  himself,  the  more  valuable  and 
indispensable  must  have  appeared  the  instruction,  by 
means  of  which  a  man  could  become  an  orator  and 
popular  leader.  This  necessity  was  met  by  the  persons 
called  by  their  contemporaries  wise  men  or  Sophists 
(<roc/>o/,  <TO(f>i<rTa£\  and  announced  by  themselves  as 
such ;  they  offered  their  instruction  to  all  who  desired 
to  learn,  wandering,  as  a  rule,  from  city  to  city,  and 
requiring  in  return  a  proportionately  high  remunera- 


• 


00  PRE-SOCHATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§  2fc 

tion  ;  a  practice  for  which  in  itself  they  are  not  to  be 
blamed,  but  which  hitherto  had  not  been  customary. 
This  instruction  might  include  all  possible  arts  and 
knowledge,  and  we  find  that  men  who  were  counted 
among  the  Sophists,  even  some  of  the  most  important 
among  them,  taught  quite  mechanical  arts.  But  the 
principal  object  of  Sophistic  instruction  was  the 
preparation  for  practical  life,  and  since  the  time  of 
Plato  it  has  been  usual  to  call  those  persons  Sophists, 
in  the  narrower  sense  of  the  word,  who  came  forward  as 
professional  teachers  of  *  virtue '  (using  the  term  in 
the  comprehensive  meaning  of  the  Greek  apsrij) ;  who 
undertook  to  make  their  pupils  adepts  in  action  and 
speech  (Seivovs  irpdrreiv  Kal  X^yetz>),  and  to  qualify 
them  for  the  management  of  a  household  or  community. 
This  limitation  to  practical  objects  rests  among  them 
all  upon  the  conviction — which  was  expressed  by  the 
most  eminent  Sophists  in  the  form  of  sceptical  theories, 
and  by  the  majority  was  put  in  practice  in  their 
*  eristic ' — that  objectively  true  science  is  impossible, 
and  that  our  knowledge  cannot  pass  beyond  subjective 
phenomena.  This  view  could  not  be  without  a  reflex 
action  upon  ethics ;  and  the  natural  result  was  that  the 
rebellion  against  all  rule,  civil,  moral,  or  legal,  which 
grew  up  in  the  feuds  and  factions  of  the  period,  found 
in  Sophistic  theories  a  superficial  justification.  Thus 
the  so-called  Sophists  came  forward  as  the  most 
eminent  exponents  and  agents  in  the  Greek  illumi- 
nation (Aufklarung)  of  the  fifth  century,  and  they 
share  all  the  advantages  and  all  the  weaknesses  of 
this  position.  The  current  condemnation  of  the 


«26]  CHARACTER  OF  8OPHISTIC1SM.  01 

Sophists,  which  is  dominated  by  Plato's  view  of  them, 
has  been  opposed  by  Hegel,  K.  F.  Hermann,  Grote, 
and  others,  who  have  brought  to  light  their  historical 
importance.  Grote  has  even  failed  to  notice  the 
superficial,  unsound,  and  dangerous  element  which 
from  the  first  was  united  with  anything  that  was 
justifiable  and  meritorious  in  them,  and  in  the  course 
of  time  came  more  and  more  to  the  surface. 

§  27.  Eminent  Sophistical  Teachers. 

The  first  man  who  called  himself  a  Sophist  and 
came  forward  publicly  as  a  teacher  of  virtue  ("TraiBisv- 
(recos  KOI  dpSTijs  8iSd(7Ka\os\  was,  according  to  Plato, 
Protagoras  of  Abdera  (Plato, «  Protag.'  316  D  f. ;  349  A). 
Born  about  480  B.C.  or  a  little  earlier,  he  wandered 
through  Hellas  for  forty  years,  devoting  himself  with 
brilliant  success  to  his  work  as  a  teacher.  On  several 
occasions  he  resided  at  Athens  under  the  protection  of 
Pericles,  but  at  length  he  was  accused  of  atheism, 
and  compelled  to  leave  the  city.  On  his  voyage  to 
Sicily  he  was  drowned,  in  the  seventieth  year  of  his 
age.  Of  his  writings  only  a  few  fragments  remain. 
Contemporary  with  Protagoras  was  Gorgias  of  Leontini, 
born  490-480  B.C.,  who  first  came  forward  as  a  teacher 
in  Sicily,  but  after  427  frequented  Athens  and  other 
cities  of  Central  Greece.  Afterwards  he  settled  at 
Larissa  in  Thessaly,  where  he  died,  more  than  a  hundred 
years  old.  In  his  later  life  he  desired  to  confine  his 
instructions  to  rhetoric,  but  we  are  acquainted  with 
certain  ethical  definitions  and  sceptical  arguments 
which  he  embodied  in  a  separate  treatise  (apparently 


92  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [$27 

in  his  youth).  Somewhat  later  than  Protagoras  and 
Gorgias  are  the  two  contemporaries  of  Socrates, 
Prodicus  of  lulls  in  Ceos,  who  enjoyed  considerable 
reputation  in  the  neighbouring  city  of  Athens,  and 
Hippias  of  Elis,  who  poured  out  his  mathematical, 
physical,  historical,  and  technical  information  with 
vainglorious  superficiality  (according  to  his  opponents), 
Xeniades  of  Corinth  appears  to  have  lived  about  the 
same  time,  a  Sophist  who,  according  to  Sextus,  *  Math.' 
vii.  53,  was  mentioned  by  Democritus.  Of  the  remaining 
the  best  known  are:  Thrasymachus  of  Chalcedon,  a 
rhetorician  whose  character  has  been  unfavourably 
portrayed  by  Plato  ;  the  brothers  Euthydemus  and 
Dionysodorus  of  Chios,  the  comic  heroes  of  the  Platonic 
'Euthydemus;'  the  rhetorician,  moralist,  and  poet, 
Evenus  of  Paros;  the  rhetoricians  of  the  school  of 
Gorgias,  Polus,  Lycophron,  Protarchus,  Alcidamas. 
Critias  the  leader  of  the  Thirty,  like  Callicles  in  the 
Platonic  *  Gorgias,'  was  not  a  Sophist  in  the  technical 
sense,  but  a  pupil  of  the  school. 

§  28.  The  Sophiatual  Scepticism  and  Eristic. 

Even  as  early  as  Protagoras  the  altered  position  of 
thought  to  its  object  was  expressed  in  the  proposition  : 
'  Man  is  the  measure  of  all  things  ;  of  what  is,  how  it 
is  ;  of  what  is  not,  how  it  is  not  ;  '  '  i.e.  for  every  person 
that  is  true  and  real  which  appears  so  to  him,  and  for 


•  JV.  1.  MulL  (Fragm.  Phil. 
ii.  130)  ;  in  Plato,  Theeet.  152  A,     trr*»  is  tan,  tS»v  ¥  •£«  6rrmr,  Itt 
160  C,  et  tape;  Sext.  Math.  vii.    •*«  tcm. 
60;    Diog.    iz.    61,    &c. 


1  28)  SOPHISTICAL  SCEPTICISM.  08 

this  reason  there  is  only  a  subjective  and  relative,  not 
an  objective  and  universal  truth.  In  order  to  establish 
this  principle,  Protagoras  (according  to  Plato,  *  Theaet.' 
152  A  ff.  ;  Sext.  «  Pyrrh.'  i.  216  ff.),  not  only  availed 
himself  of  the  fact  that  the  same  thing  makes  an 
entirely  different  impression  on  different  persons,  but 
also  of  Heracleitus's  doctrine  of  the  flux  of  all  things. 
In  the  constant  change  of  objects  and  of  the  organs  of 
sense  each  perception  has  a  value  only  for  a  definite 
person  and  a  definite  moment,  and  therefore  it  is  im- 
possible to  maintain  one  thing  rather  than  another  of 
any  object.1  Gorgias,  on  the  other  hand,  in  his 
treatise  *  On  the  Non-being  or  Nature,'  a  made  Zeno's 
dialectic  his  pattern,  and  also  availed  himself  of  pro- 
positions of  Zeno  and  Melissus  in  order  to  prove,  as  he 
did  with  a  certain  acuteness,  (1)  that  nothing  could 
exist  ;  (2)  that  what  did  exist  could  not  be  known  by 
us  ;  (3)  and  that  which  was  known  could  not  be  im- 
parted to  another.  In  the  school  of  Gorgias  we  meet 
with  the  assertion  that  no  predicate  can  be  given  to  a 
subject,  because  one  thing  cannot  be  many.  The  pro- 
position of  Protagoras  also  lies  at  the  base  of  the 
principle  of  Xeniades,  who  maintained  that  all  the 
opinions  of  men  were  false;  and  the  apparently 
opposite  principle  of  Euthydemus,  that  everything 
applied  to  anything  at  any  time  and  at  the  same 
time.  If  the  last-mentioned  Sophist  deduces  from  the 


.  Col.  4.  2.    Demo-         •  The  contents  of  which  we 

critus  controverted  the  principle  know    from    Sextus,  Math,   vii 

of    Protagoras,    pj)  /toAXoy  cfyai  65-87.     Ps.  Arist.  De  Melisto,  c 

rotor  f)  roiov  r«r  *pa.-fna.Tu>v  Ittat-  5  t    Cf  .  Isocr.  If  el.  2  f. 


94  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§  & 

Eleatic  presuppositions  the  inference  that  a  ma-n  can 
neither  utter  nor  think  what  does  not  exist  and  is  there- 
fore false  ;  the  same  result  appears  in  connection  with 
Heracleitean  and  Protagorean  doctrines ;  and  the  kindred 
proposition,  that  a  man  cannot  contradict  himself,  is 
found  even  in  Protagoras  himself.  But  the  practical  pro- 
cedure of  the  majority  of  the  Sophists  shows  even  more 
clearly  than  these  sceptical  theories  how  deeply  rooted 
was  the  despair  of  objective  knowledge  in  the  whole 
character  of  this  mode  of  thought.  Independent 
inquiries  in  the  physical  part  of  philosophy  are  not 
known  to  have  been  undertaken  by  any  of  the  Sophists, 
although  they  occasionally  made  use  of  certain  assump- 
tions of  the  Physicists,  and  Hippias  extended  his 
instructions  even  to  mathematics  and  natural  science. 
The  more  common,  on  the  other  hand,  is  the  art  of 
disputation  or  eristic,  which  seeks  its  object  and 
triumph  not  in  gaining  a  scientific  conviction,  but 
merely  in  contradicting  and  confusing  those  who  take 
a  part  in  the  dialogue.  To  Plato,  Aristotle,  and 
Isocrates,  an  '  Eristic '  and  a  *  Sophist '  are  almost 
synonymous  titles.  Even  Protagoras  maintained  that 
any  proposition  could  be  supported  or  confuted  with 
good  reasons.  In  his  conversation  and  in  his  writings 
he  introduced  pupils  to  this  art,  and  his  fellow- 
countryman  Democritus  laments  (*  Fr.  Mor.'  145) 
over  the  'wranglers  and  strap-plaiters '  of  his  day. 
Subsequently  we  find  the  theory  and  practice  of  this 
art  in  an  equally  melancholy  condition.  According 
to  Aristotle  ('Top.'  ix.  33,  183  b.  15),  the  theory 
consisted  in  making  pupils  learn  the  most  common 


§28]  SOPHISTICAL  SCEPTICISM.  95 

'catches'  by  heart.  The  practice  is  seen  in  the 
Platonic  *  Euthydemus,'  degraded  to  empty  repartee, 
and  even  to  formal  badinage ;  and  that  this  picture, 
which  does  not  conceal  its  satiric  nature,  is  not  a 
mere  caricature  is  shown  by  Aristotle's  treatment  of 
fallacies  ('  Top.'  ix.),  in  which  the  examples  are  almost 
entirely  borrowed  from  the  Sophists  of  the  Socratean 
period,  from  whom  also  the  Megarian  Eristics  took 
their  patterns.  It  is  true  that  the  pitiful  trivialities  of 
a  Dionysodorus  and  Euthydemus  are  not  attributed  to 
Protagoras  and  Gorgias ;  but  we  cannot  fail  to  recog- 
nise one  as  the  direct  descendant  of  the  other.  If, 
nevertheless,  this  Eristic  was  able  to  bring  most  dis- 
putants into  difficulties  and  excite  admiration  among 
many ;  if  even  Aristotle  thought  it  worth  serious  ex- 
amination, this  is  only  a  proof  how  little  practised  in 
thinking  the  men  of  that  time  were,  and  what  dif- 
ficulties could  be  thrown  in  the  way  of  their  training 
by  the  confusions  which  can  hardly  be  avoided  when 
thought,  as  yet  unacquainted  with  the  conditions 
necessary  to  correctness  of  method,  becomes  for  the 
first  time  aware  of  the  full  extent  of  its  power. 

§  29.  The  Sophistic  Ethics  and  Rhetoric. 

If  there  is  no  universally  valid  truth,  there  cannot 
be  any  universally  valid  law  ;  that  is  true  for  every  man 
which  appears  to  him  to  be  true,  that  must  be  right  of 
which  he  approves.  The  older  Sophists  did  not  deduce 
these  consequences  from  their  presuppositions.  If  they 
came  forward  as  teachers  of  virtue,  they  understood  by 
virtue  what  was  universally  meant  by  the  word  at  the 


96  PZE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§29 

time.  The  *  Heracles  *  and  other  moral  lectures  of  Pro- 
dicns,  the  counsels  which  Hippias  put  into  the  mouth  of 
Nestor,  would  never  have  received  the  approval  which 
they  did  had  they  been  at  variance  with  the  moral 
views  of  the  time.  In  the  myth  in  Plato  (*  Prot.'  320 
C  ff.),  which,  no  doubt,  is  taken  from  him,  Protagoras 
regards  the  sense  of  justice  and  duty  (&IKI)  and  alScos) 
as  a  gift  of  the  gods  vouchsafed  to  all  men  ;  he  there- 
fore recognises  a  natural  justice.  Grorgias  described 
the  virtue  of  the  man,  of  the  woman,  of  the  child,  of 
the  slave,  &c.,  as  they  were  popularly  conceived  (Plato, 
<  Meno,'  71  D  f. ;  Arist.  '  Pol.'  i.  13,  1260  a.  27).  Yet 
even  in  the  Sophists  of  the  first  generation  some  of  the 
practical  consequences  of  their  scepticism  come  to  the 
surface.  Protagoras  v^ry  properly  met  with  opposition 
when,  by  promising  to  make  the  weaker  cause  appear  the 
stronger  (rbv  rjrrco  \6yov  KpeLrro)  •jroisiv),  he  recom- 
mended his  rhetoric  precisely  on  the  side  where  it  was 
open  to  abuse.  Hippias  (Xen.  *  Memor.'  iv.  4.  14  ff.) 
places  law  in  opposition  to  nature,  in  a  contrast  of  which 
he  himself  makes  very  doubtful  applications,  and  which 
at  a  later  time  became  one  of  the  leading  thoughts  of 
the  Sophistic  art  of  life.  Plato  puts  into  the  mouth  of 
Thrasymachus,  Polus,  and  Callicles  the  view  which  Ari- 
stotle also  shows  to  have  been  widely  maintained  in  So- 
phistic circles  (*  Top.'  ix.  12, 173  a.  7),  that  natural  right 
was  the  right  of  the  stronger,  and  all  positive  laws  were 
merely  capricious  enactments,  which  the  authorities  of 
the  time  had  made  in  their  own  interest.  If  justice  was 
generally  commended  this  merely  arose  from  the  fact 
that  the  mass  of  men  found  it  to  their  advantage.  On 


1 29]  SOPHISTIC  RHETORIC.  97 

the  other  hand,  anyone  who  felt  that  he  had  the  power 
to  rise  above  these  laws  had  the  right  to  do  so.  That 
the  distinction  between  law  and  nature  was  also  used 
to  set  men  free  from  national  prejudices  is  shown  by 
the  doubts  to  which  it  gave  rise  whether  slavery  was 
according  to  nature — doubts  which  Aristotle  mentions, 
« Pol.'  i.  3,  6. 

Among  human  ordinances  were  to  be  reckoned  the 
belief  in  and  worship  of  gods ;  of  this  the  variety  of 
religions  is  a  proof.  *  Of  the  gods,'  wrote  Protagoras, 
*  I  have  nothing  to  say  ;  either  that  they  exist  or  that 
they  do  not  exist.'  Prodicus  saw  in  the  gods  personi- 
fications of  the  heavenly  bodies,  the  elements,  the 
fruits  of  the  earth,  and,  generally,  of  all  things  useful 
to  men.  In  the  *  Sisyphus'  of  Critias  the  belief  in 
gods  is  explained  as  the  discovery  of  a  politician  who 
employed  it  as  a  means  to  terrify  men  from  evil. 

The  more  completely  the  human  will  freed  itself 
/rom  the  limitations  which  religion,  custom  and  law 
had  hitherto  drawn  around  it,  the  higher  rose  the  value 
of  the  means  by  which  men  could  win  for  themselves 
this  sovereign  will  and  make  it  their  subject.  With  the 
Sophists  all  these  means  were  included  in  the  art  of 
speech,  the  power  of  which,  it  is  true,  was  quite 
extraordinary  at  that  time,  and  was  altogether  over- 
estimated by  those  who  owed  their  whole  influence  to  it. 
Hence  of  the  great  majority  of  the  Sophists  it  is  ex- 
pressly handed  down  that  they  came  forward  as  teachers 
of  elocution,  composed  introductions  to  the  art,  pro- 
nounced and  wrote  pattern  speeches,  which  they 
caused  their  pupils  to  learn  by  heart.  It  was  a  neces- 


98  PRE-SOCRATIC  PHILOSOPHY.  [§W 

sary  concomitant  of  the  whole  character  of  the  Sophis- 
tical instruction  that  greater  weight  should  be  laid  on 
the  technicalities  of  language  and  exposition  than  on 
the  logical  or  actual  correctness  of  the  discussion.  The 
speeches  of  the  Sophists  were  exhibitions  which  at- 
tempted to  create  an  effect  mainly  by  a  clever  choice 
of  subject,  by  startling  turns  in  the  treatment,  copious- 
ness of  expression,  select,  delicate,  and  exuberant 
language.  Gorgias  more  especially  owed  to  these 
peculiarities  the  brilliant  success  of  his  speeches, 
though  it  is  true  that  to  a  riper  taste,  even  in  antiquity, 
they  seemed  over-elaborate  and  insipid.  Yet  many  of 
these  Sophistical  rhetoricians,  as  for  instance  Thrasy- 
machus,  did  real  service  in  the  cultivation  of  the  art  of 
oratory  and  its  technicalities.  From  them  also  pro- 
ceeded the  first  investigations  into  the  science  of 
language.  Protagoras,  for  the  first  time,  no  doubt, 
distinguished  the  three  genders  of  nouns,  the  tenses  of 
verbs,  and  the  kinds  of  sentences.  Hippias  laid  down 
rules  on  metre  and  euphony,  and  Prodicus  by  his  dis- 
tinction between  synonymous  words,  though  he  doubt- 
less ascribed  an  undue  value  to  it,  gave  a  great  impulse 
to  lexicographical  inquiries  and  the  formation  of  a  scien- 
tific terminology.* 


SECOND  PERIOD. 

SOCRATES,  PLATO,  ARISTOTLK 
§  30.  Introduction. 

IT  was  inevitable  that  the  illumination  of  the  Sophistic 
period  should  have  a  double  effect  upon  scientific  life. 
On  the  one  hand,  thought,  in  the  consciousness  of  its 
power,  demanded  obedience  from  all  authority.  In  the 
questions  of  the  theory  of  knowledge  and  of  ethics  a 
new  field  of  inquiry,  hitherto  only  incidentally  touched 
upon,  was  opened,  and  this  inquiry  received  varied 
exercise  in  the  Sophistic  dialectic.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  investigations  of  the  Sophists  had  merely  ended  in 
the  conclusion  that  a  scientific  foundation  of  ethics 
was  as  utterly  hopeless  as  a  scientific  knowledge  of  the 
world  ;  and  with  the  surrender  of  the  belief  in  man's 
power  of  knowledge  must  be  given  up  also  the  effort  after 
the  knowledge  of  truth.  As  the  existing  basis  of  moral 
conviction — the  absolute  supremacy  of  human  and  divine 
laws — was  also  abandoned,  the  moral  and  civic  life  of 
the  Greeks  appeared  to  be  in  no  less  danger  than  the 
scientific  life.  As  a  fact,  this  alarm  was  not  yet  well 
grounded.  From  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century 
the  moral  and  religious  intuitions  of  the  nation  had 
undergone  such  a  refinement  and  amplification  by  the 
poets  and  writers  of  the  time,  the  questions  which 
were  of  the  first  importance  for  human  life  had  been  so 


100  SOCRATES.  [§80 

variously  discussed,  though  not  in  a  scientific  form, 
that  nothing  was  needed  beyond  a  deeper  reflection 
on  the  part  of  the  Greek  mind  upon  itself  and  the 
gains  already  won,  in  order  to  acquire  a  new  and  firm 
foundation  for  moral  action.  But  this  reflection  could 
only  be  the  work  of  a  science  which  was  free  from  the 
doubts  by  which  the  confidence  in  the  science  of  the 
day  had  been  destroyed.  In  opposition  to  the  dog- 
matism of  such  science,  it  must  proceed  from  firm  prin- 
ciples about  the  problem  and  conditions  of  knowledge. 
In  opposition  to  the  sensuous  view,  from  which  the 
physicists  had  never  been  able  to  emancipate  them- 
selves, it  must  recognise  as  the  true  object  of  science 
the  nature  of  things  as  comprehended  by  thought,  and 
passing  beyond  immediate  perception.  This  new  form 
of  the  scientific  life  Socrates  founded  by  demanding 
knowledge  through  concepts,  by  introducing  men  to  the 
formation  of  concepts  by  dialectic,  and  by  applying  the 
process  to  ethical  and  kindred  religious  questions.  In 
the  smaller  Socratic  schools  separate  elements  of  his 
philosophy  were  retained  in  a  one-sided  manner,  and 
in  an  equally  one-sided  manner  connected  with  older 
doctrines.  Plato  carried  on  the  work  of  his  master 
with  a  deeper  and  more  comprehensive  intelligence. 
He  developed  the  Socratic  philosophy  of  concepts,  which 
he  supplemented  by  all  the  kindred  elements  of  pre- 
Socratic  doctrines,  to  its  metaphysical  consequences, 
and  regarded  everything  from  this  point  of  view.  In 
this  manner  he  created  a  grand  system  of  an  idealistic 
nature,  the  central  point  of  which  lies  on  the  one  side 
in  the  intuition  of  ideas,  on  the  other  in  inquiries 


$30]  SOCRATES.  101 

about  the  nature  and  duty  of  man.  Aristotle  supple- 
mented this  by  the  most  vigorous  researches  into 
nature.  While  controverting  the  dualistic  harshness  of 
the  Platonic  idealism,  he  held  closely  to  the  leading 
principles,  and  by  extending  them  so  widely  that  they 
seemed  adapted  to  embrace  the  entire  world  of  reality, 
he  brought  the  Socratic  philosophy  of  concepts  to  the 
highest  scientific  completeness. 

L  SOCRATES. 
|  31.  Life  and  Personality  of  Socrates. 

Socrates  was  born  in  470  B.C.  (it  if  said  on  the  sixth 
of  Thargelion),  or,  at  latest,  in  the  first  months  of  the 
following  year.1  His  father,  Sophroniscus,  was  a  sculp- 
tor; his  mother,  Phaenarete,  a  midwife.  In  youth 
his  education  does  not  seem  to  have  gone  beyond  the 
limits  common  in  his  country.  Anaxagoras  is  men- 
tioned as  his  teacher  by  later  writers  only;  and  Archelaus 
by  Aristoxenus — not  by  Ion  of  Chios,  his  contemporary 
(Diog.  Laert.  ii.  19.  23.  45,  &c.).  The  absolute  silence 
of  Plato  and  Xenophon  are  against  both  these  assump- 
tions, as  also  are  expressions  which  Plato  puts  into  the 
mouth  of  Socrates  in  '  Phsedo,'  97  B ;  *  Crito,'  52  B ;  and 
Xenophon, « Mem.'  iv.  7. 6  f. ;  «  Symp.'  i.  1.  5.  At  a  later 
time  he  may  have  sought  to  increase  his  knowledge  from 
books,  mixed  with  the  Sophists,  and  attended  some  of 
their  lectures ;  but  he  owed  his  philosophy  rather  to 

1  This  is  clear  from  the  state-  Mcmor.  iv.  8,  2 ;  Plato,  Plued.  59 

ments    about    the  time    of    his  D)  and   about   his  age    at    the 

death  and  condemnation  (Diog.  time  (Plato,  Ajfol.  17  D;  Crito, 

ii.    44;  Diodor.    xiT.    87;   Xen.  62  E> 


102  SOCRATES.  [$8i 

his  own  reflection,  and  to  the  means  of  culture  which 
Athens  then  provided — to  conversation  with  leading 
men  and  women — than  to  direct  scientific  instruction. 
He  appears  to  have  learnt  his  father's  art ;  fcut  his 
higher  mission  of  influencing  the  development  of  others 
was  made  known  to  him  by  the  inward  voice  which  he 
himself  regarded  as  divine  (Plato,  '  Apol.'  33  C),  and 
this  voice  was  at  a  later  time  confirmed  by  the  Delphic 
oracle.  Aristophanes  represents  him  as  thus  engaged 
in  424  B.C.,  and  Plato  even  before  the  beginning  of  the 
Peloponnesian  war.  He  devoted  himself  to  his  work 
to  the  end,  even  under  circumstances  of  the  greatest 
poverty,  and  with  Xanthippe  at  his  side.  His  self- 
renunciation  was  complete.  He  asked  for  no  reward ; 
neither  the  care  of  his  family  nor  participation  in  public 
business  withdrew  him  from  his  mission.  A  pattern  of 
a  life  of  few  needs,  of  moral  purity,  justice,  and  piety,  yet 
at  the  same  time  full  of  genuine  human  kindliness,  a 
pleasant  companion,  subtle  and  intellectual,  of  never- 
failing  cheerfulness  and  calm,  he  became  an  object  of 
enthusiastic  veneration  to  men  of  the  most  varied  cha- 
racter and  rank.  A  son  of  his  nation,  he  not  only  dis- 
charged his  civic  duties  in  peace  and  in  the  field  un- 
falteringly, unshaken  by  any  danger,  but  in  his  whole 
nature  and  conduct,  as  well  as  in  his  views,  he  shows 
himself  a  Greek  and  an  Athenian.  At  the  same  time 
we  can  find  in  him  traits  which  gave  even  to  hit  con- 
temporaries the  impression  of  something  strange  and 
remarkable,  of  an  unparalleled  singularity  (aroTria). 
On  the  one  hand  there  was  a  prosiness,  an  intellec- 
tual pedantry,  an  indifference  to  outward  appearance, 


§31]  LIFE  OF  SOCRATES.  10S 

which  suited  very  well  with  the  Silenus  figure  of 
the  philosopher,  but  stood  in  sharp  contrast  to  the 
susceptibility  of  Attic  taste.  On  the  other  hand,  there 
waa  an  absorption  in  his  own  thoughts  which  at  times 
gave  the  impression  of  absence  of  mind,  and  a  power 
of  emotion  so  potent  that  the  dim  feeling  which  even 
in  his  youth  held  him  back  when  about  to  take  this 
or  that  step  appeared  to  him  a  daemonic  sign  and 
an  inward  oracle.  Even  in  dreams  he  believed  that  he 
received  prophetic  warnings.  But  the  ultimate  basis  of 
all  these  traits  lies  in  the  devotion  with  which  Socrates 
withdrew  himself  from  the  external  world  in  order  to 
give  his  undivided  interest  to  the  problems  which  arise 
out  of  the  intellectual  nature  of  man.  The  same 
character  is  stamped  on  his  philosophy. 

\  32.  The  Philosophy  of  Socrates. 
The  Sources.  Principle.  Method. 
As  Socrates  left  no  writings  behind  him,  the  only 
authentic  sources  of  our  knowledge  of  his  teaching  are 
(he  writings  of  his  pupils  Xenophon  and  Plato.  Among 
later  writers  Aristotle  alone  can  be  taken  into  con- 
sideration, and  he  tells  us  nothing  that  cannot  be 
found  in  Plato  or  Xenophon..  But  these  two  authors 
give  us  an  essentially  different  picture  of  the  Socratic 
philosophy ;  and  if  Plato  places  his  own  views  without 
any  deduction  in  the  mouth  of  his  master,  we  have  to 
ask  whether  the  unphilosophic  Xenophon,  in  his 
*  Memorabilia  * — the  first  object  of  which  was  apologetic 
— has  given  us  the  views  of  Socrates  in  their  true 


104  SOCRATES.  [|33 

meaning  without  any  abbreviation.  But  th ough  this  ob- 
jection  is  not  without  ground,  we  have  no  reason  to 
suspect  the  fidelity  of  Xenophon's  account  to  the  extent 
which  Dissen '  and  Schleiermacher  a  have  done.  On  the 
contrary,  it  is  clear  that  the  statements  of  Xenophon 
agree  with  those  of  Plato  which  bear  an  historical  stamp, 
in  all  essential  points ;  and  if,  with  the  help  of  Plato  and 
Aristotle,  we  penetrate  the  meaning  of  the  Socratic 
doctrine  we  can  form  from  the  accounts  which  Xenophon 
gives  of  his  teaching  and  method  a  consistent  picture 
which  answers  to  the  historical  position  and  importance 
of  the  philosopher.  Like  the  Sophists,  Socrates  ascribes 
no  value  to  natural  science,  and  would  restrict  philo- 
sophy to  the  questions  which  are  concerned  with  the 
welfare  of  men.  Like  them  also  he  demands  that  every 
one  should  form  his  convictions  by  his  own  reflection, 
independently  of  custom  and  tradition.  But  while  the 
Sophists  denied  objective  truth  and  universal  Invs,  So- 
crates is  on  the  contrary  convinced  that  the  value  of 
our  notions,  the  correctness  of  our  actions,  depends 
entirely  upon  their  harmony  with  that  which  is  true  and 
just  in  itself.  If,  therefore,  he  restricts  himself  to 
practical  questions,  he  makes  correct  action  depend 
on  correct  thinking ;  his  leading  idea  is  the  reform  of 
moral  life  by  true  knowledge;  science  must  not  be  the 
servant  of  action,  but  govern  it,  and  fix  its  aims  ;  and 
the  need  of  science  is  so  strongly  felt  by  him  that  even 
in  Xenophon's  account  he  constantly  oversteps  the  limits 

1  De  Philo&opMa  morali  in  *  Ueber  den  Werth  det  Soar. 
Xeneph.  de  Socr.  comment,  tra-  alt  Philogoahen  (1818) :  Werke, 
/•••</,  Gott,  1812.  (D.'a  Kl.  Schr.  iii.  2,  293  £ 

M  a.) 


§82]  METHOD  OF  HIS  PHILOSOPHY.  lOc 

which  he  has  imposed  upon  himself,  by  dialectical  in- 
quiries which  have  no  practical  object.  For  Socrates, 
therefore,  the  principal  question  is :  What  are  the 
conditions  of  knowledge  ?  This  question  he  answers 
with  the  proposition  that  no  man  can  say  anything 
upon  any  subject  until  he  knows  the  concept  of  it — what 
it  is  ;n  its  general  untlterable  nature.  All  knowledge, 
therefore,  must  begin  with  fixing  concepts.  Hence  for 
this  philosopher  the  first  thing  necessary  is  the  testing  of 
his  own  notions  in  order  to  ascertain  whether  they  agree 
with  this  idea  of  knowledge,  the  self-examination  and 
self-knowledge  which  in  his  view  were  the  beginning  of 
all  true  knowledge,  and  the  conditions  of  all  right  action. 
But  inasmuch  as  the  new  idea  of  knowledge  was 
indeed  felt  as  a  necessity,  but  not  yet  formulated  in  a 
scientific  system,  self-examination  can  only  end  in  a 
confession  of  ignorance.  Yet  the  belief  in  the  possi- 
bility and  the  conviction  of  the  necessity  of  knowledge 
are  in  Socrates  far  too  vigorous  to  allow  him  to  remain 
satisfied  with  the  consciousness  of  ignorance.  Rather 
they  give  rise  to  a  more  energetic  search  after  knowledge, 
which  here  assumes  shape  in  the  fact  that  the  philo- 
sopher turns  to  others  in  order  with  their  assistance  to 
gain  the  knowledge  which  is  wanting  in  himself;  it 
becomes  inquiry  in  common  by  means  of  conversation. 
Inasmuch  as  other  men  believe  that  they  have  a 
knowledge  of  some  kind  or  another,  he  has  to  inquire 
how  the  case  stands  with  this  supposed  knowledge ; 
his  activity  consists  in  the  examination  of  men,  in  the 
*  proving  of  himself  and  the  rest  of  the  world '  (e^srd^siv 
iavrov  teal  rovf  aXXous),  which  he  states  to  be  his 


106  SOCRATES.  [§  32 

mission  iu  the  Platonic  *  Apology'  (28  E,  38  A),  and  the 
midwifery  (maieutike )  of  the  «  Tbeaetetus  '  ( 149  ff).  But 
inasmuch  as  the  true  idea  of  knowledge  is  found  to  be 
absent  in  those  whom  he  subjects  to  his  tests,  the 
examination  only  leads  to  the  proof  of  their  ignorance  ; 
and  the  request  for  instruction  on  the  part  of  Socrates 
appears  as  simply  'irony.'  On  the  other  hand,  so  far 
as  the  partners  in  the  conversation  undertake  to 
accompany  him  in  the  search  for  knowledge,  and  com- 
mit themselves  to  his  guidance  in  the  way  which  he 
has  discovered-  and  this  is  especially  the  case  with  the 
young — younger  men  become  with  him  the  object  ol 
that  inclination,  which  arises  in  any  man  marked  out  by 
nature  to  teach  and  educate,  towards  those  who  respond 
to  his  influence.  Socrates  is  according  to  the  Greek 
view  a  lover,  though  his  love  is  not  for  a  beautiful  body 
but  for  a  beautiful  soul.  The  central  point  of  the 
inquiries  which  Socrates  carries  on  with  his  friends  is 
always  the  fixing  of  concepts,  and  the  method  by  which 
this  object  is  attempted  is  induction  by  dialectics.1 
This  induction  does  not  begin  with  exact  and 
exhaustive  observation,  but  with  well-known  experi- 
ences of  daily  life,  and  propositions  universally  acknow- 
ledged. But  as  the  philosopher  looks  at  every  object 
from  all  sides,  tests  every  definition  by  contradictory 
instances,  and  constantly  brings  forward  new  cases,  he 
compels  thought  to  form  such  ideas  as  are  adequate  to 
the  whole  subject,  and  unite  all  the  essential  character- 

1  Atist.  Metap*.  xiii.  4,  1078  KaB6\ov.    Ib.  1.  6,  987  b.  1.  Part. 

b.  27      Mo   ydp  tffTiv  S  Tit  &r  An.  i.   1,  642  a.   28,  and  else- 

'ScoKpdTti  Smaius,  TOVS  r'  where. 
Joyous  Kalrti  6pi{fff6mt 


32  §]  METHOD   OF  HIS  PHILOSOPHY.  107 

i sties  of  the  object  in  a  manner  beyond  any  contradic- 
tion. With  Socrates  the  measure  of  truth  lies  in  con- 
ceptions.1 However  different  the  means  of  which  he 
avails  himself  to  contradict  the  opinions  of  others,  or 
to  prove  his  own  views,  they  always  lead  to  the  result, 
that  that,  and  that  only,  ought  to  be  asserted  of  any- 
thing which  corresponds  to  its  idea  when  rightly  con- 
ceived. But  Socrates  never  established  any  theory  of 
logic  or  methodology,  apart  from  the  general  principle 
that  knowledge  is  through  concepts. 

§  33.     The  Nature  of  the  Socratic  Teaching. 

In  contrast  to  the  Physicists,  Socrates  confined  him- 
self to  ethical  inquiries.  Only  these  have  a  value  for 
men;  and  to  them  alone  is  his  power  of  knowledge 
adequate.  The  speculations  of  natural  philosophy,  on 
the  other  hand,  are  not  only  unfruitful  but  objectless ; 
nay,  they  are  even  mistakes,  as  is  shown  by  the  want  of 
harmony  among  the  professors  of  them,  and  the  obvious 
difficulties  into  which  they  had  brought  even  such 
a  man  as  Anaxagoras.  (Xen.  '  Mem.'  i.  1. 11  ff. ;  iv.  7. 
6.)  We  have  all  the  less  reason  to  mistrust  this  state- 
ment, as  Schleiermacher  does,  since  Aristotle  ('Metaph.' 
i.  6,  987  b.  1  ;  xiii.  4,  1078  b.  17  ;  'Part.  An.'  i.  1, 
642  a.  28)  confirms  it,  and  it  agrees  with  the  general 
attitude  of  Socrates.  As  we  should  expect  from  the 
general  direction  of  his  philosophy,  the  leading  thought 
of  the  Socratic  ethics  consists  in  reducing  virtue  to 

1  Xenoph.    Mem.    iv.   6,   13:     presupposition   with    which  the 
t»  ti  TIS  avrw  irepi  TOV  a.vn\fyoi     decision   has  to  begin) 
.  .  ifl  rV  virotitaiv  (the  general     tu>  wdtT*  rir  \6yov. 


108  SOCHATES.  [§** 

knowledge,  According  to  Socrates  it  is  not  merely 
impossible  to  do  right  without  knowledge ;  it  is  impos- 
sible not  to  do  right  if  what  is  right  is  known.  For  as 
the  good  is  nothing  else  than  that  which  is  most  service- 
able to  the  doer,  and  everyone  desires  his  own  good,  so 
it  is  inconceivable  in  the  opinion  of  Socrates  that  any 
one  should  not  do  that  which  he  recognises  as  good. 
No  one  is  voluntarily  bad.  In  order,  therefore,  to  make 
men  virtuous  it  is  only  necessary  to  make  quite  clear 
to  them  what  is  good ;  virtue  arises  through  instruc- 
tion, and  all  virtues  consist  in  knowledge.  He  is  brave 
who  knows  how  to  conduct  himself  in  danger;  pious, 
who  knows  what  is  right  towards  the  gods ;  just,  who 
knows  what  is  right  towards  men,  &c.  All  virtues, 
therefore,  are  reduced  to  one — knowledge  or  wisdom  ; 
and  even  the  moral  basis  and  problem  is  the  same  in  all 
men.  But  what  the  good  is  of  which  the  knowledge 
makes  men  virtuous,  Socrates  finds  it  the  more  difficult 
to  say,  as  he  has  no  substructure  for  his  ethics  in 
anthropology  and  metaphysics.  On  the  one  hand  (Xen. 
'  Mem.'  iv.  4,  6),  he  explains  that  as  just  which  agrees 
with  the  laws  of  the  State  and  the  unwritten  laws  of 
the  gods ;  but  on  the  other,  and  this  is  the  more 
common  and  consistent  view,  he  is  at  pains  to  point 
out  the  basis  of  moral  laws  in  the  success  of  actions 
which  are  in  harmony  with  them,  and  their  useful- 
ness to  men.  For,  as  he  says  more  than  once  (Xen. 
'  Mem.'  iii.  8,  9. 4 ;  iv.  6, 8.  Plato,  'Prot.'  333  D,  353  C 
ff.  &c.),  that  is  good  which  is  useful  for  men.  Good 
and  beautiful  are  therefore  relative  ideas.  Everything 
is  good  and  beautiful  in  reference  to  that  for  which  it 


§88]  NATURE  OF  HIS  TEACH1XQ.  109 

is  useful.  In  Plato  and  in  Xenophon  also  (Plato, '  Apol.' 
29  D  f.;  'Crito,'  47  D  f.;  Xen.  'Mem.'  16,  9;  iv.  8. 
6,  2  ;  9.  5,  6)  Socrates  regards  as  unconditionally  useful 
and  necessary  before  all  things  the  care  for  souls  and 
their  perfection;  but  his  unsystematic  treatment  of 
ethical  questions  does  not  allow  him  to  carry  out  this 
point  of  view  strictly.  Hence,  in  Xenophon  at  any 
rate,  this  deeper  definition  of  an  aim  is  frequently 
crossed  by  a  eudaBmonistic  foundation  of  moral  duties, 
which  considers  a  regard  to  the  consequences  upon  our 
external  prosperity  which  follow  from  their  fulfilment 
or  neglect  to  be  the  sole  motive  of  our  conduct.  It 
is  true  that  the  Socratic  morality  even  where  the 
scientific  basis  is  unsatisfactory  is  in  itself  very  noble 
and  pure.  Without  any  trace  of  asceticism  Socrates 
insists,  with  great  emphasis,  that  a  man  shall  make 
himself  independent  by  limitation  of  his  needs,  by 
moderation  and  endurance ;  and  that  he  should  ascribe 
greater  importance  to  the  cultivation  of  his  mind  than 
to  all  external  goods.  He  demands  justice  and  active 
benevolence  towards  others,  commends  friendship,  and 
condemns  paederastia  in  the  lower  sense,  though  his 
conception  of  marriage  does  not  rise  above  that  usual 
among  the  Greeks.  He  recognises  in  full  measure 
the  importance  of  civic  life;  he  considers  it  a  duty  for 
a  man  to  take  part  in  it  according  to  his  powers,  and  is 
at  pains  to  form  excellent  citizens  and  officers  for  the 
State.  He  requires  that  unconditional  obedience  to 
the  laws  which  he  himself  observed  even  to  the  death. 
But  as  knowledge  alone  qualifies  for  right  action,  he 
would  only  allow  the  right  of  political  action  to  those 


110  SOCRATES.  [|M 

who  have  the  requisite  knowledge ;  these  and  these  alone 
does  he  recognise  as  rulers.  The  election  of  officers  by 
choice  or  lot  he  considers  perverse,  and  regards  the 
rule  of  the  masses  as  ruinous.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
has  shaken  off  the  Greek  prejudice,  and  is  opposed  to  the 
prevailing  contempt  of  trade  and  labour.  A  confession 
of  cosmopolitanism  is  placed  in  his  mouth,  but  wrongly 
(Cicero, «  Tusc.'  v.  37,  108  &c.),  and  Plato  ascribes  to  him 
the  principle  that  a  man  ought  to  do  no  evil  to  his 
enemy  ('  Rep.'  i.  334  B  ff.),  thereby  contradicting  Xeno- 
phon,  « Mem.'  ii.  6.  35. 

Socrates  considered  our  duties  to  the  gods  to  be 
among  those  which  are  essential.  This  point  of  support 
his  moral  teaching  cannot  dispense  with,  and  the 
less  so  because,  as  he  was  limited  to  ethics,  he  had  not 
the  means  of  proving  the  necessity  of  the  connection 
between  acts  and  their  consequences  on  which  moral 
laws  are  founded,  and  thus  these  laws  present  them- 
selves to  him  in  the  customary  way  as  *  the  unwritten 
ordinances  of  the  gods  '  ('  Mem.'  iv.  4.  19).  But  the 
thinker,  whose  first  principle  it  is  to  examine  every- 
thing, cannot  rest  in  mere  belief;  he  must  take  account 
of  the  grounds  of  this  belief,  and  in  attempting  to  do 
this  he  becomes,  in  spite  of  his  radical  aversion  to  all 
theoretical  speculation,  and  almost  against  his  will, 
the  author  of  a  view  of  nature  and  a  theology  which 
has  exercised  a  leading  influence  even  to  the  present 
time.  But  even  here  the  guiding  thought  is  the  same 
as  in  his  ethics.  Man  fashions  his  life  aright  when  he 
refers  all  his  actions  to  his  own  true  benefit  as  a  final 
object ;  and  Socrates  looks  on  the  whole  world  in  its 


§83]  NAT UltE  OF  HIS  TEACHING.  Ill 

relation  to  this  aim.  He  finds  that  everything  in  it, 
the  smallest  and  the  greatest,  serves  for  the  advantage 
of  men  ('  Mem.'  L  4  j  iv.  3)  ;  and,  though  he  works  out 
this  principle  for  the  most  part  with  a  very  superficial 
and  unscientific  teleology,  he 'does  not  neglect  to  mark 
out  the  intellectual  powers  and  prerogatives  of  men  as 
the  highest  gifts  which  nature  has  vouchsafed  to  them. 
This  arrangement  of  the  world  can  only  arise  from  the 
wisdom  and  beneficence  of  the  creative  reason,  which  we 
can  nowhere  seek  but  among  the  gods.  In  speaking  of 
the  gods  Socrates  thinks  first  of  those  of  his  own  nation, 
but  with  him,  as  with  the  great  poets  of  the  fifth 
century,  the  plurality  of  the  gods  ends  in  a  unity,  and 
in  the  *  Memorabilia '  (iv.  3.  13)  he  distinguishes  the 
Creator  and  Kuler  of  the  universe  from  the  other  gods, 
conceiving  of  him,  after  the  analogy,  of  the  human 
soul,  as  the  mind  (yovs)  dwelling  in  the  world  (i.  4, 
9. 17  ff.).  As  the  soul  takes  care  for  the  body,  so  divine 
providence  takes  care  for  the  world,  and  especially  for 
men.  Socrates  finds  a  remarkable  proof  of  this  care 
in  the  various  modes  of  prophecy.  For  the  worship 
of  the  gods  he  lays  down  the  principle  that  everyone 
should  adhere  to  the  custom  of  his  city.  As  to  the 
rest  the  value  of  an  offering  was  of  little  importance 
compared  with  the  spirit  of  him  who  offered  it,  and 
special  blessings  were  not  to  be  prayed  for,  since  the 
gods  knew  best  what  is  good  for  us.  He  had  no  doubt  of 
tha  relationship  of  the  human  soul  to  the  divine  ;  on 
the  other  hand,  he  did  not  venture  distinctly  to  main- 
tain its  immortality  (Plato,  *  Apol.'  40  C  L ;  cf,  Xen, 
«Cyrop.'viii7.  19  ff.> 


SOCRATES. 


f  34.  The  Death  of  Socrates. 

When  Socrates  had  laboured  in  Athens  for  a  com- 
plete generation  the  charge  was  brought  against  him 
by  Meletus,  Anytus,  and  Lyco  that  he  denied  the 
existence  of  the  gods  of  the  State,  attempted  to  intro- 
duce new  deities  in  their  place,  and  corrupted  the 
youth.  Had  he  not  despised  the  common  method  of 
defence  before  a  court ;  had  he  made  a  few  concessions 
to  the  usual  claims  of  the  judges,  he  would  no  doubt 
have  been  acquitted.  When  the  sentence  against 
him  had  been  carried  by  a  few  votes l  and  the  punish- 
ment was  being  discussed,  he  came  forward  before  the 
court  with  unbroken  pride,  and  the  sentence  of  death 
which  his  accusers  proposed  was  passed  by  a  larger 
majority.  He  refus'ed  to  escape  out  of  prison  as 
contrary  to  law,  and  drank  the  cup  of  hemlock  with 
philosophic  cheerfulness.  That  personal  enmity  played 
a  part  in  his  accusation  and  condemnation  is  probable, 
though  it  was  not  the  enmity  of  the  Sophists  as  some 
have  supposed.  Yet  the  deciding  motive  lay  in  the 
determination  of  the  ruling  democratic  party  to  place 
a  barrier  upon  the  innovating  Sophistical  education, 
which  was  regarded  as  chiefly  responsible  for  the 
disasters  of  the  last  decades,  by  punishing  its  leading 
representative.  It  was  an  attempt  on  the  part  of  the 
democratic  reaction  to  restore  by  violence  the  good  old 
times.  This  attempt  was  not  only  a  grievous  outrage 

1  According  to  Plato,  Apol.  36  another  reading,  thirty  of  th« 
A,  it  would  not  have  been  passed  five  or  six  hundred  heliasts  had 
if  only  three,  or,  according  to  voted  otherwise. 


584]  HIS  DEATH.  113 

in  the  manner  in  which  it  was  carried  out — for  in  no 

respect  had  the  philosopher  laid  himself  open  to  legal 
punishment — but  it  rested  upon  a  most  dangerous 
deception.  The  old  times  could  not  be  restored,  least 
of  all  in  this  manner,  and  Socrates  was  by  no  means 
the  cause  of  their  disappearance.  On  the  contrary,  he 
had  pointed  out  the  only  successful  way  of  improving 
the  present  condition  of  affairs,  by  insisting  on  moral 
reform.  Eegarded  from  a  legal  and  moral  point  of 
view,  his  execution  was  a  judicial  murder,  and  as  an 
historical  fact  it  was  a  gross  anachronism.  But  just  as 
Socrates  might  have  escaped  the  sentence,  in  all 
probability,  had  he  been  less  independent,  so  the 
sentence  itself  had  precisely  the  opposite  effect  from 
that  which  his  opponents  wished.  It  is  doubtless  a 
later  invention  that  the  Athenian  people  cancelled  the 
sentence  by  punishing  the  accusers,  but  history  has  all 
the  more  completely  erased  it.  The  death  of  Socrates 
was  the  greatest  triumph  of  his  cause,  the  brilliant 
culmination  of  his  life,  the  apotheosis  of  philosophy  and 
the  philosopher. 

n.  THE  SMALLEB  SOCRATIC  SCHOOIA 
$  35.  The  School  of  Socrates :  Xenophon. 
Among  the  numerous  persons  who  were  attracted 
and  retained  by  the  marvellous  personality  of  Socrates, 
the  greater  part  had  more  feeling  for  his  moral  great- 
ness and  the  ethical  value  of  his  speeches  than  for  his 
scientific  importance.      We  see  from  Xenophon  ( born 
about  430,  and  died  about  ninety  years  old)  how  the 


114  THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOLS.  [§35 

Socratic  philosophy  wa$>  set  forth  in  this  respect,  and 
how  it  was  applied  to  human  life.  However  worthy  of 
respect  he  was  for  his  practical  wisdom,  his  piety,  and 
nobility  of  feeling,  however  great  his  merits  in  preserv- 
ing the  Socratic  teaching,  his  intelligence  of  its  philo- 
sophic meaning  was  limited.  In  a  similar  manner 
yEschines  seems  to  have  set  forth  the  doctrine  of  his 
master  from  its  practical  and  common-sense  side  in  his 
Socratic  dialogues.  Plato  describes  the  two  Thebans, 
Simmias  and  Cebes,  pupils  of  Philolaus,  as  men  of 
philosophic  nature  ('  Phaedr.'  242  B),  but  we  know  no- 
thing further  of  either  of  them ;  even  Panaetius  de- 
clared their  works  to  be  spurious,  and  the  *  picture*  of 
Cebes  which  has  come  down  to  us  is  certainly  so.  Be- 
sides Plato,  we  know  of  four  pupils  of  Socrates  who 
founded  schools.  Euclides,  by  combining  Eleatic  doc- 
trines with  Socratic,  founded  the  Megarian  school ; 
Phsedo  founded  the  kindred  Elean ;  Antisthenes  the 
Cynic,  under  the  influence  of  the  Sophistic  of  Gorgias  : 
and  Aristippus  the  Cyrenaic,  under  the  influence  of 
Protagoras. 

§  36.  The  Megarian  and  the  Elean-Eretrian  Schools. 
Euclides  of  Megara,  the  faithful  follower  of 
Socrates,  had  also  become  acquainted  with  the 
Eleatic  teaching,  perhaps  before  he  met  with  the 
philosopher.  After  the  death  of  Socrates  he  came 
forward  in  his  paternal  city  as  a  teacher.  He  was 
succeeded  by  Ichthyas  as  leader  of  the  school.  A 
younger  contemporary  of  the  latter  is  Eubulides,  the 
rlialectician,  a  passionate  opponent  of  Aristotle ;  a  con- 


*S6]      MEQAR1AN  AND  ERETR1AN  SCHOOLS.      115 

temporary  of  Eubnlides  was  Thrasymachus,  while  Pasicles 
came  somewhat  later.  To  the  last  thirty  years  and  the 
end  of  the  fourth  century  belong  Diodorus  Cronus 
(died  307  B.C.),  and  Stilpo  of  Megara  (370-290  B.C.); 
younger  contemporaries  of  Stilpo  are  Alexinus  the 
Eristic,  and  Philo,  the  pupil  of  Diodorus.  The  starting- 
point  of  the  Megarian  doctrine  was  formed,  according  to 
Plato,  '  Soph.'  246  B  ff.— if  Schleiermacher  is  right  in 
referring  that  passage  to  this  doctrine,  as  seems  probable 
— by  the  Socratic  teaching  of  concepts.  If  only  know- 
ledge by  concepts  has  truth  (so  Euclides  concludes  with 
Plato),  reality  can  only  belong  to  that  to  which  this 
knowledge  is  related,  to  the  unchangeable  essence  of 
things,  the  aa-co^ara  s"8r).  The  world  of  bodies,  on  the 
other  hand,  which  our  senses  exhibit  to  us,  is  not  Being 
at  all.  Origin,  decay,  change,  and  motion  are  incon- 
ceivable, and  therefore  it  was  maintained  apparently 
even  by  Euclides  that  only  what  was  real  was  possible 
(Arist.  *  Metaph.'  ix.  3).  But  all  Being  leads  us  back 
in  the  last  resort  (as  in  *  Parmenides ')  to  Being  as  a 
unity,  and  as  Being  was  placed  on  an  equality  with  the 
good,  which  is  the  highest  concept  of  the  Socratic  ethics 
and  theology,  the  Megarians  arrived  at  the  conclusion 
that  there  was  only  one  good,  unchangeable  and  un- 
alterable, though  known  by  different  names,  as  Insight, 
Reason,  Divinity,  &c.  In  like  manner  there  was  only 
one  virtue,  the  knowledge  of  this  good,  and  the  various 
virtues  are  but  different  names  for  this  one.  Every- 
thing beside  the  good  was  non-existent ;  and  thus  the 
plurality  of  « incorporeal  forms '  which  was  at  first  pre- 
supposed was  again  given  up.  In  order  to  establish 


116  THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOLS.  [§»« 

these  views,  the  founders  of  the  school,  following  the 
example  of  Zeno,  availed  themselves  of  indirect  proof 
by  the  refutation  of  opponents ;  and  their  pupils  pursued 
this  dialectic  with  such  eagerness  that  the  whole  school 
derived  from  them  the  name  of  the  Dialectic  or  Eristic. 
Most  of  the  applications  which  they  made  use  of — the 
veiled  man,  the  liar,  the  horned  man,  the  sorites — are 
quite  in  the  manner  of  the  Sophists,  and  were  for  the 
most  part  treated  in  quite  the  same  Eristic  spirit  as 
the  Sophists  treated  them.  We  hear  of  four  proofs  of 
the  impossibility  of  movement  given  by  Diodorus, 
which  are  imitated  from  Zeno,  and  a  demonstration 
of  the  Megarian  doctrine  of  the  possible,  which  was 
admired  for  centuries  under  the  title  of  the  Kvpieva)v.] 
When  nevertheless  he  merely  asserted  that  what 
is  or  can  be  is  possible;  that  a  thing  may  have 
been  moved  but  nothing  can  move,  it  was  a  singular 
contradiction.  Still  further  did  Philo  deviate  from  the 
strict  teaching  of  his  school.  Stilpo,  who  had  Dio- 
genes the  Cynic  for  his  teacher  as  well  as  Thrasymachus, 
showed  himself  a  pupil  of  the  former  by  his  ethical 
tendencies,  by  the  apathy  and  self-sufficiency  of  the 
wise  man  which  he  inculcated  in  word  and  deed, 
by  his  free  attitude  to  the  national  religion,  and  the 
assertion  that  no  subject  admits  a  predicate  different 
from  it.  But  in  other  respects  he  was  faithful  to  the 
Megarian  school.  His  pupil  Zeno  combined  the 
Megarian  and  the  Cynic  schools  into  the  Stoic. 

1  Of.  on  this  Socratei  and  ike    the  Sitzungtber.  d.  Berl.  Alad. 
Socratic  Schools,  and  on  the  ttvpt~    1882,  a.  Ifil  £L 
fv*r,  in  particular,  my  treatise  in 


§86]          THE  ELEAN-ERETR1AN  SCHOOLS.  117 

The  Elean  school  was  closely  related  to  the  Me- 
garian.  It  was  founded  by  Phaedo  of  Elis,  the  favourite 
of  Socrates,  with  whom  Plato  has  made  us  acquainted. 
Yet  nothing  further  is  known  to  us  of  his  teaching. 
A  pupil  of  the  Eleans,  Moschus  and  Anchipylus,  was 
Menedemus  of  Eretria  (352-278);  even  earlier  he  had 
attended  Stilpo,  in  whose  spirit  he  combined  with  the 
Megarian  dialectics  a  view  of  life  related  to  the  Cynic, 
but  at  the  same  time  going  back  to  the  Megarian 
doctrine  of  virtue.  But  the  extent  and  continuance 
of  this  (Eretrian)  school  can  only  have  been  very  limited* 

§  37.  The  Cynic  School. 

Antisthenes  of  Athens,  the  founder  of  the  Cynic 
school,  had  enjoyed  the  instruction  of  Grorgias,  and 
was  himself  active  as  a  teacher  before  he  had  become 
acquainted  with  Socrates,  to  whom  he  henceforth 
attached  himself  with  the  greatest  devotion.  He 
appears  to  have  been  considerably  older  than  Plato : 
according  to  Plutarch  (*  Lycurg.'  30  end),  he  survived 
the  year  371  B.C.  Of  his  numerous  writings,  which 
were  distinguished  for  the  excellence  of  their  style, 
only  a  few  fragments  remain.1  After  the  death  of 
Socrates  he  opened  a  school  in  the  gymnasium  of 
Cynosarges,  and  partly  from  this  place  of  meeting, 
partly  from  their  mode  of  life,  his  adherents  were 
known  as  Cynics.  Among  his  immediate  pupils  we 
only  know  Diogenes  of  Sinope,  the  eccentric  being  of 
coarse  humour  and  indomitable  will,  who,  after  his 

1  Collected  by  Winckelmann,  Antistk.  Fragm.  1842.     Mullach, 
Fr.  Phti.  ii.  261  ff. 


118  THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOLS.  [§37 

exile  from  home,  lived  generally  at  Athens  and  died  at 
Corinth  at  a  great  age  in  323  B.C.  The  most  important 
of  his  pupils  is  Crates  of  Thebes,  a  cultivated  man, 
whose  mendicant  life  was  shared  in  admiring  affection 
by  his  wife  Hipparchia.  Among  the  last  members  of 
the  school  known  to  us  are  Menedemus  and  Menippus 
the  satirist,  both  of  whom  belong  to  the  second  third 
of  the  third  century.  From  this  date  the  school  appears 
to  have  been  absorbed  in  the  Stoic,  from  which  it  did 
not  emerge  again  for  300  years. 

What  Antisthenes  admired  and  imitated  in  Socrates 
was  in  the  first  instance  the  independence  of  his 
character.  His  scientific  researches  he  considered  of 
value  only  so  far  as  they  bore  directly  upon  action. 
*  Virtue,'  he  said  (Diog.  vi.  11),  'was  sufficient  for 
happiness,  and  for  virtue  nothing  was  requisite  but 
the  strength  of  a  Socrates ;  it  was  a  matter  of  action, 
and  did  not  require  many  words  or  much  knowledge.' 
Hence  he  and  his  followers  despised  art  and  learning, 
mathematics  and  natural  science ;  and  if  he  followed 
Socrates  in  requiring  definition  by  concepts,  he  applied 
the  doctrine  in  a  manner  which  made  all  actual  know- 
ledge impossible.  In  passionate  contradiction  to  the 
Platonic  ideas,  he  allowed  the  individual  being  only  to 
exist,  and  hence  demanded  that  everything  should 
receive  its  own  name  (the  olicsios  \6yos)  and  no  other. 
From  this  he  deduced  the  conclusion  (apparently  after 
the  pattern  of  Gorgias)  that  no  subject  can  receive 
a  predicate  of  a  different  nature.  He  rejected,  there- 
fore, definition  by  characteristic  marks  ;  only  for  what 
was  composite  would  he  allow  an  enumeration  of  its 


§»7]  THE   CYNIC  SCHOOL.  119 

constituent  parts.  What  was  simple  might  be  ex- 
plained by  comparison  with  something  else,  but  it 
could  not  be  defined.  With  Protagoras  he  maintained 
that  no  man  could  contradict  himself,  for  if  he  said 
what  was  different  he  was  speaking  of  different  things. 
Thus  he  gave  a  thoroughly  Sophistic  turn  to  the 
Socratic  philosophy  of  concepts. 

The  result  of  this  want  of  a  scientific  basis  was  seen 
in  the  simplicity  of  his  ethics.  The  leading  thought 
is  expressed  in  the  proposition  that  virtue  only  is  a 
good,  vice  only  is  an  evil;  everything  else  being 
indifferent.  That  only  can  be  good  for  a  man  which 
is  proper  to  him  (ol/csiov\  and  this  can  only  be  his 
intellectual  possessions :  all  else,  property,  honour, 
freedom,  health,  life  itself,  are  not  in  themselves 
goods ;  poverty,  shame,  slavery,  sickness,  death  are  not 
in  themselves  evils;  least  of  all  can  pleasure  be  re- 
garded as  a  good,  or  labour  and  work  as  an  evil ;  for  plea-' 
sure,  when  it  becomes  a  man's  governing  principle,  leads 
to  his  destruction,  and  labour  educates  him  to  virtue. 
Antisthenes  used  to  say  he  would  rather  be  mad  than 
delighted  (navsiyv  /uaXXoi/  rj  f)<r0Eirjv).  The  pattern 
for  himself  and  his  pupils  was  the  laborious  life  of 
Heracles.  Virtue  itself  is  referred,  as  with  Socrates, 
to  wisdom  or  insight ;  and  hence  it  is  also  maintained 
that  virtue  is  one  and  can  be  taught ;  but  in  this  case 
strength  of  will  coincides  with  insight,  and  moral 
practice  with  instruction.  In  itself  this  virtue  is  chiefly 
of  a  negative  character;  it  consists  in  independence  of 
externals,  in  freedom  from  needs,  in  eschewing  what  is 
evil,  and  it  appears  (according  to  Arist.  « Eth.  N.'  ii.  2, 


120  THE  SOCRATIC  SCHOOLS.  [§?? 

1 1 04  b.  24)  to  have  been  described  even  by  the  Cynics 
as  apathy  and  repose  cf  feeling.  The  less  that  the 
Cynics  found  this  virtue  among  their  contemporaries, 
the  more  exclusively  did  they  divide  the  world  into 
two  classes  of  the  wise  and  the  fools ;  the  more  abso- 
lutely did  they  ascribe  to  the  former  all  perfection 
and  happiness,  and  to  the  latter  all  vice  and  misery. 
The  virtue  of  the  wise  man  was  a  possession  which 
coul.  I  not  be  lost.  In  their  own  conduct  they  exhibit 
as  their  ideal  an  exaggeration  of  the  Socratic  freedom 
from  needs.  Even  Antisthenes  boasts  (Xen.  '  Symp.' 
4,  34  ff.)  the  wealth  which  he  gained  by  restricting 
himself  to  what  was  absolutely  indispensable ;  but  he 
possessed  a  dwelling,  however  humble  it  might  be. 
After  the  time  of  Diogenes,  the  Cynics  led  a  profes- 
sional mendicant  life,  without  any  habitations  of  their 
own,  living  on  the  simplest  food,  and  content  with  the 
'  most  meagre  clothing  (the  tribon).  Their  principle 
was  to  harden  themselves  against  renunciation,  disas- 
ter, and  sorrow ;  they  proved  their  indifference  to  life 
by  voluntarily  abandoning  it.  As  a  rule  they  renounced 
family  life,  in  the  place  of  which  Diogenes  proposed  the 
community  of  women ;  they  ascribed  no  value  to  the 
contrast  of  freedom  and  slavery,  because  the  wise  man, 
even  though  a  slave,  is  free  and  a  born  ruler.  Civic 
life  was  not  a  requisite  for  the  wise  man,  for  he  was  at 
home  everywhere,  a  citizen  of  the  world.  Their  ideal 
polity  was  a  state  of  nature  in  which  all  men  lived 
together  as  a  herd.  In  their  conduct  they  purposely 
rebelled,  not  only  against  custom  and  decency,  but  not 
nnfrequently  against  the  feelings  of  natural  shame,  in 


§87]  THE  CYNIC  SCHOOL.  121 

order  to  exhibit  their  indifference  to  the  opinions  of 
men.  They  opposed  the  religious  faith  and  worship 
of  their  people,  as  enlightened  persons ;  for  in  truth 
(Kara  <f>vcriv)  there  was,  as  Antisthenes  says  with 
Xenophanes,  only  one  God,  who  is  unlike  anything 
visible ;  it  is  custom  (vo/ios)  which  has  created  a 
variety  of  gods.  In  the  same  way  the  Cynics  saw  a 
real  worship  in  virtue  only,  which  made  the  wise  friends 
of  the  gods  ;  with  regard  to  temples,  sacrifices,  prayers, 
vows,  dedications,  prophecies,  they  expressed  them- 
selves with  the  greatest  contempt.  Homeric  and  other 
myths  were  recast  by  Antisthenes  for  a  moral  object 
The  Cynics  regarded  it  as  their  peculiar  mission  to 
attach  themselves  to  moral  outcasts ;  and  no  doubt  they 
had  a  beneficial  influence  as  preachers  of  morality  and 
physicians  of  the  soul.  If  they  were  reckless  in  attack- 
ing the  folly  of  men,  if  they  opposed  over-cultivation  by 
the  coarse  wit  of  the  common  people,  and  the  corrup- 
tion of  their  times  by  an  unbending  will,  hardened 
almost  to  the  point  of  savagery,  in  a  pharisaic  contempt 
of  mankind,  yet  the  harshness  of  their  conduct  has 
its  root  in  sympathy  with  the  misery  of  their  fellow- 
men,  and  in  the  freedom  of  spirit  to  which  Crates  and 
Diogenes  knew  how  to  elevate  themselves  with  cheerful 
humour.  But  science  could  expect  little  from  these 
mendicant  philosophers,  and  even  among  the  most  cele- 
brated representatives  the  extravagances  of  the  school 
are  unmistakable* 


122  THE  SOCRAT1C  SCHOOLS.  tl^ 

§  38.     The  Cyrenaic  School. 

Aristippus  of  Gyrene,  who,  according  to  Diog.  ii. 
83,  was  older  than  ^Eschines,  and  so,  no  doubt,  some- 
what older  than  Plato,  appears  to  have  become  ac- 
quainted with  the  doctrines  of  Protagoras  while  yet 
resident  in  his  native  town.  At  a  later  time  he  sought 
out  Socrates  in  Athens  and  entered  into  close  relations 
with  him.  Yet  he  did  not  unconditionally  renounce 
his  habits  of  life  and  views.  After  the  death  of 
Socrates,  at  which  he  was  not  present,  he  appears  for  a 
long  time  to  have  resided  as  a  Sophist  in  various  parts 
of  the  Grecian  world,  more  especially  at  the  court  of 
Syracuse — whether  under  the  elder  or  the  younger 
Dionysius  or  both  is  not  clear.  In  Gyrene  he  founded 
a  school  which  was  known  as  the  Cyrenaic  or  Hedonistic. 
His  daughter  Arete  and  Antipater  were  members  of  it. 
Arete  educated  her  son  Aristippus  (o  fjirjTpo&iSaKToi) 
in  the  doctrines  of  his  grandfather.  The  pupil  of 
Aristippus  was  Theodorus  the  atheist,  and  indirectly 
Hegesias  and  Anniceris  were  pupils  of  Antipater  (all 
t  hree  about  320-280).  Their  contemporary  Euemerus, 
the  well-known  common-place  rationalist,  is  perhaps 
connected  with  the  Cyrenaic  school. 

The  systematic  development  of  the  Cyrenaic  doc- 
trine must  be  ascribed,  in  spite  of  Eusebius  ('  Prspp. 
Evang.'  xiv.  18,  31),  to  the  elder  Aristippus.  This  is 
proved  partly  by  the  unity  of  the  school,  and  partly  by 
the  reference  to  the  doctrine  in  Plato  ('  Phileb.'  42  D  f. ; 
53  C)  and  Speusippus,  who,  according  to  Diogenes  (iv.  5), 


§M]  THE  CYRENAIC  SCHOOL.  12S 

composed  an  '  Aristippus.'  So  far  as  any  indications 
go,  at  least  a  part  of  the  writings  ascribed  to  Aristippus 
were  genuine.  Like  Antisthenes,  Aristippus  measured 
the  value  of  knowledge  by  its  practical  usefulness.  He 
despised  mathematics,  because  they  did  not  inquire  what 
is  wholesome  or  harmful ;  he  considered  physical  inves- 
tigations to  be  without  object  or  value  ;  and  of  discus- 
sioas  concerning  the  theory  of  knowledge  he  only 
adopted  what  was  of  use  in  establishing  bia  ethics. 
Our  perceptions,  he  said,  following  Protagoras,  instruct 
us  only  about  our  own  feelings,  not  about  the  quality 
of  things  or  the  feelings  of  other  men ;  and  therefore 
it  was  justifiable  to  gather  the  law  of  action  from  sub- 
jective feelings  only.  But  all  feeling  consists  in  motion 
(Protagoras);  if  the  motion  is  gentle  the  result  is 
pleasure ;  if  rough  or  hasty,  the  result  is  pain ;  if  no 
motion  takes  place,  or  but  a  slight  motion,  we  feel 
neither  pleasure  nor  pain.  That  of  these  three  condi- 
tions pleasure  alone  is  desirable,  that  the  good  coin- 
cides with  the  pleasant,  and  the  bad  with  the  unplea- 
sant, Aristippus  believed  to  be  declared  to  everyone 
by  the  voice  of  nature.  Thus  the  crowning  principle 
of  his  ethics  is  the  conviction  that  all  our  actions  must 
be  directed  to  the  object  of  gaming  for  us  as  milch  plea- 
sure as  possible.  By  pleasure  Aristippus  does  not,  like 
Epicurus  after  him,  think  only  of  repose  of  spirit,  for 
this  would  be  the  absence  of  any  feeling  but  of  positive 
enjoyment.  Even  happiness,  as  a  state,  cannot,  in  bis 
opinion,  be  the  object  of  our  life,  for  only  the  present 
belongs  to  us,  the  future  is  uncertain,  and  the  past  is 
gone. 


124  THE  SCCttATlC  SCIfOO^it.  t§38 

What  kind  of  things  or  actions  bring  us  pleasure  is 
indifferent,  for  every  pleasure  as  such  is  a  good.  Yet 
the  Cyrenaics  would  not  contend  that  there  was  not  a 
distinction  of  degrees  among  enjoyments.  Nor  did 
they  overlook  the  fact  that  many  of  them  were  pur- 
chased by  far  greater  pain,  and  from  these  they  dis- 
suaded their  followers.  Finally,  though  the  feelings  of 
bodily  pain  and  pleasure  are  the  more  original  and 
potent,  they  were  aware  that  they  were  pleasures  which 
did  not  arise  immediately  out  of  bodily  conditions. 
Along  with  this  they  recognised  the  necessity  of 
correctly  estimating  the  relative  value  of  various  goods 
and  enjoyments.  This  decision,  on  which  depends  all 
the  art  of  living,  we  owe  to  prudence  (<f>p6vi)<Ti,st  STTI^ 
<TTT7/i77,  TratSeta)  or  philosophy.  It  is  this  which  shows 
ms  what  use  we  are  to  make  of  the  goods  of  life,  it  liber- 
ates us  from  fancies  and  passions  which  disturb  the 
happiness  of  life,  it  qualifies  us  to  apply  everything  in 
the  manner  best  suited  for  our  welfare.  It  is  therefore 
the  first  condition  of  all  happiness. 

Agreeably  with  these  principles  Aristippus  pro- 
ceeded, in  his  rules  of  life  and  in  his  conduct — so  far  as 
tradition  allows  us  to  judge  of  this — in  a  thoroughgoing 
manner  to  enjoy  life  as  much  as  possible.  But  under 
all  circumstances  he  remained  master  of  himself  and 
his  life.  He  is  not  merely  the  capable  man  of  the  world, 
who  is  never  at  a  loss  when  it  is  needful  to  provide  the 
means  of  enjoyment  (occasionally  in  an  unworthy 
manner),  or  to  find  a  witty  and  clever  turn  in  cider  to 
defend  his  conduct.  He  is  also  the  superior  mind, 
which  can  adapt  itself  to  every  situation,  extract  the 


1 88]  THE  CTRENAIC  SCHOOL.  125 

best  from  everything,  secure  his  own  cheerfulness  and 
contentment  by  limiting  his  desires,  by  prudence  and 
self-control.1  He  met  his  fellow-men  in  a  gentle  and 
kindly  spirit ;  and  in  his  later  years  certainly  sought  to 
withdraw  himself  from  civic  life  (as  in  Xen.  *  Mem.'  ii. 
1),  in  order  to  lose  nothing  of  his  independence.  He 
had  the  warmest  veneration  for  his  great  teacher ;  and 
in  the  value  which  he  ascribed  to  insight  (prudence), 
in  the  cheerfulness  and  inward  freedom  which  he 
gained  by  it,  we  cannot  fail  to  recognise  the  influence 
of  the  Socratic  spirit.  Yet  his  doctrine  of  pleasure, 
and  his  search  after  enjoyment,  in  spite  of  the  extent 
to  which  they  rested  on  the  foundation  of  the  Socratic 
ethics,  are  opposed  essentially  to  the  teaching  of  his 
master,  just  as  his  sceptical  despair  of  knowledge  con- 
tradicts the  concept-philosophy  of  Socrates. 

In  the  Cyrenaic  school  this  contradiction  of  the 
elements  contained  in  it  came  to  the  surface  in  the 
changes  which  were  made  in  the  doctrine  of  Aristippus 
about  the  beginning  of  the  third  century.  Theodorus 
professed  himself  an  adherent  of  the  school,  and  from 
their  presuppositions  he  deduced  the  extreme  conse- 
quences with  cynical  recklessness.  But  in  order  to 
render  the  happiness  of  the  wise  man  independent  of 
external  circumstances,  he  sought  to  place  it,  not  in 
particular  enjoyments,  but  in  a  gladsome  frame  of  mind 
(%apa\  of  which  insight  had  the  control.  Hegesias, 
the  TreKnOdvaTos,  had  such  a  lively  sense  of  the  evil  of 
life  that  he  despaired  of  any  satisfaction  in  positive 

1  Omnia  Aristippum  decuit  color  et  status  et  res, 
Tentantein  majora,  fere  pnesentibus  aequum. — Hor.  F/p.  L  17.  23 


126  PLATO.  [§38 

enjoyment,'  and  passing  beyond  Theodorus  he  found 
the  highest  object  of  life  in  keeping  himself  clear  of 
pain  and  pleasure  by  indifference  to  all  external  things. 
Finally  Anniceris,  though  he  would  not  give  up  the 
doctrine  of  pleasure  as  a  principle,  placed  essential 
limitations  upon  it.  when  he  ascribed  so  high  a  value  to 
friendship,  gratitude,  love  of  family  and  country,  that 
the  wise  man  would  not  shrink  from  sacrifices  on  their 
account, 

III.    PLATO  AND  THE  OLDER  ACADEMY. 

§  39.  The  Life  of  Plato.1 

According  to  the  trustworthy  statements  of  Henno- 
dorus  and  Apollodorus  (Diog.  iii.  2,  6),  Plato  was  born 
in  01.  88,  1  (427  B.C.),  and  ancient  tradition  fixed  the 
seventh  of  Thargelion  (May  26-7  or  29-30)  as  his 
birthday.  Both  his  parents,  Aristo  and  Perictione, 
belonged  to  the  ancient  nobility.  At  first  he  was 
called  Aristocles,  after  his  grandfather.  The  social 
and  political  position  of  his  family  secured  for  him  on 
the  one  hand  the  careful  cultivation  of  his  great  gifts  of 
intellect ;  and  on  the  other  inclined  his  superior  nature 
from  the  first  to  the  aristocracy.  The  artistic  talent 
which  excites  our  admiration  in  the  writings  of  Plato 
expressed  itself  in  the  poetical  attempts  of  his  youth. 
He  was  first  instructed  in  philosophy  by  Cratylus  (see 
supra,]).  71) ;  his  connection  with  Socrates  began  in  his 

1  Recent  monographs  on  the  Platimitmvs  (1864),   ii.   158    ff. 

subject    are :    K.    F.    Hermann,  Grote,    Plato,    1865,    3rd    edit. 

Getch.  u.  Syst.  der  Plat.  Phil.  1  1876.     Chaignet,   LJ,   vie  et  lei 

(ard  only)  vol.  1839,   s.   1-126.  tcritt  de  Platm,  1871       Stein- 

H.  v.  Stein,  7  Biicher  t.  Geteh.  d.  hart,  Platon't  Lebe*  1878. 


|39J  THE  LIFE  OF  PLATO.  127 

twentieth  year,  and  in  eight  years  of  friendly  confi- 
dence he  penetrated  more  deeply  than  any  other  into 
the  spirit  of  his  master.  But  these  years  were  also 
employed  in  making  himself  acquainted  with  the  doc- 
trines of  the  older  philosophers. 

After  the  death  of  Socrates,  at  which  he  was  not  pre- 
sent, according  to  the  statement  in  the  *  Phaedo '  (59  B) 
which  is  probably  without  foundation,  he  repaired  with 
the  other  Socratics  to  Euclides  at  Megara  in  order  to 
withdraw  himself  from  some  kind  of  persecution.  Here 
he  remained  for  no  long  time  and  then  set  out  upon 
travels  which  took  him  to  Egypt  and  Gyrene.  On  his 
return  he  appears  to  have  first  remained  at  Athens, 
where  for  eight  years  he  was  occupied,  not  in  writing 
only,  but  also  as  a  teacher,  at  any  rate  in  a  narrow 
circle.  Then  he  proceeded  (about  388  B.C.)  to  Lower 
Italy  and  Sicily,  being  now  forty  years  of  age,  accord- 
ing to  '  Epistle '  vii.  324  A.  Here  he  visited  the  court 
of  Dionysius  the  elder,  with  whom  he  fell  into  such  ill 
favour  that  the  tyrant  handed  him  over  to  Pollis,  a 
Spartan,  and  he  was  sold  as  a  slave  in  the  market  of 
^Egina.  Being  ransomed  by  Anniceris  the  Cyrenajp,  he 
returned  to  Athens,  and  is  now  said  for  the  first  time 
to  have  formally  opened  a  school  in  the  Gymnasium  of 
the  Academy,  and  afterwards  in  his  own  gardens,  which 
were  close  at  hand.  Besides  philosophy  he  taught 
mathematics,  in  which  he  was  one  of  the  greatest  pro- 
ficients of  his  time.  He  not  only  gave  instructions  in 
conversation  but  also  delivered  lectures,  as  is  proved  be- 
yond a  doubt,  for  the  later  period  ;  the  members  of  the 
society  were  brought  together  every  month  at  common 


198  PLATO.  [§» 

meals.  He  renounced  politics,  because  in  the  Athens 
of  his  time  he  found  no  sphere  for  his  action.  But 
when,  after  the  death  of  Dionysius  the  elder  (368  B.C.), 
he  was  invited  by  Dion  to  visit  his  successor,  he  did 
not  refuse  the  invitation,  and,  badly  as  the  attempt 
ended,  he  repeated  it,  apparently  at  Dion's  wish,  some 
years  afterwards.  On  the  second  occasion  the  suspicion 
of  the  tyrant  brought  him  into  great  danger,  from 
which  he  was  only  liberated  by  Archytas  and  his  friends. 
Returning  to  Athens,  he  continued  his  scientific 
activity  with  unabated  vigour  till  his  death,  which  took 
place  in  01.  108,  1  (347  B.C.),  when  he  had  completed 
his  eightieth  year.  Of  his  character  antiquity  speaks 
with  almost  unanimous  veneration,  and  the  verdict  is 
confirmed  by  his  writings.  The  picture  of  an  ideal  in- 
tellect, developed  into  moral  beauty  in  the  harmonious 
equipoise  of  all  its  powers,  and  elevated  in  Olympian 
cheerfulness  above  the  world  of  change  and  decay,  which 
his  writings  present  to  us,  is  also  expressed  in  those 
myths  by  which  the  philosopher  at  a  very  early  time 
was  brought  into  connection  wi*l»  the  Delphian  deity. 

§  40.  Plato's  Writings. 

Plato's  activity  as  an  author  extends  over  more 
than  fifty  years.  It  began  apparently  before,  and 
beyond  doubt  immediately  after,  the  death  of  Socrates, 
and  continued  to  the  end  of  his  life.  All  the  works 
which  he  intended  for  publication  have  come  down  to 
us ;  but  in  our  collection  not  a  little  that  is  spurious 
is  mingled  with  what  is  genuine.  Besides  seven  small 
dialogues  considered  as  spurious  even  in  antiquity,  wt 


§40]  PLATOS   WRITINGS.  189 

possess  thirty-five  dialogues,  a  collection  of  definitions, 
and  thirteen  (perhaps  eigbteen)letters.  Of  these  writings 
part  are  supported  not  only  by  internal  evidence,  but  by 
the  witness  of  Aristotle.1  The  *  Republic,'  the  '  Timaeus,' 
the  «  Laws,'  the  '«  Phsedo,'  the  «  Phaedrus,'  the  «  Sympo- 
sium,' the '  Gorgias,'  the '  Meno,'  the  *  Hippias '  (*  Minor ' ), 
are  quoted  by  Aristotle  as  Plato's  either  by  name  or  in 
such  a  manner  that  their  Platonic  origin  is  assumed  as 
certain.  The  'Thesetetus,'  the  'Philebus,'  the « Sophist,' 
the  '  Politicus,'  the  *  Apology '  are  referred  to  by  Ari- 
stotle in  a  manner  so  unmistakable  that  we  can  neither 
dcubt  his  acquaintance  with  these  writings  nor  his 
recognition  of  their  Platonic  origin.  The  case  is  the 
same  with  the  *  Protagoras '  and  the  *  Crito '  (44  A ;  cf. 
Arist.  <Fr.' 32).  We  have  less  certainty  in  regard  to 
the « Lysis,'  the '  Charmides,'  the « Laches,'  the  *  Cratyl  us,' 
and  the  *  Hippias  Major.'  The  '  Euthydemus '  is  referred 
to  only  in  the  'Eudemian  Ethics'(vii.  14,  1247  b.  15); 
the  *  Menexenus '  in  a  part  of  the  *  Rhetoric,'  which  is 
apparently  post-Aristotelian  ('Rhet.'  iii.  14, 1415  b.  30). 
But  as  it  cannot  be  maintained  that  Aristotle  must 
have  mentioned  all  the  works  of  Plato  which  he  knew 
in  the  writings  which  have  come  down  to  us,  we  can 
enly  conclude  that  he  is  unacquainted  with  a  work 
because  he  does  not  mention  it,  when  we  can  prove 
that,  if  he  had  known  it,  he  must  have  mentioned  it 
in  a  particular  place.  But  this  in  fact  we  never  can 
prove.  With  regard  to  any  internal  characteristics  for 
distinguishing  the  genuine  and  spurious,  we  must  not 

'  On  which  see  Bonitz,  Index  Arittatel.  p.  688;  Plato  and  ike 
Older  Academy,  p.  64  fl. 


180  PLATO.  [««0 

overlook  the  fact  that  on  the  one  hand  a  clever 
imitation  in  an  interpolated  treatise  would  give  the 
impression  of  genuineness,  and  on  the  other  even  a 
Plato  cannot  have  produced  works  equally  perfect.  So 
rich  an  intellect  could  not  be  restricted  to  one  form  of 
exposition :  he  may  have  had  reasons  to  content  him- 
self in  some  of  his  dialogues  with  merely  preparatory 
discussions,  leaving  the  last  word  unspoken ;  and  his 
views  no  less  than  his  style  may  have  undergone 
changes  in  the  course  of  half  a  century.  Lastly,  much 
may  appear  to  us  strange  merely  because  we  have  no 
acquaintance  with  his  special  circumstances  and  rela- 
tions. By  recent  scholars  the  genuineness  of  the  'Prot- 
agoras,' «  Gorgias,'  <  Phaedras,'  « Phaedo,'  <  Theaetetus,' 
*  Republic,'  and  *  Timseus '  has  been  universally  or  almost 
universally  acknowledged.1  The  *  Sophist,' '  Politicus,' 
and  'Parmenides'  have  been  rejected  by  Socher  and 
Schaarschmidt,  and  in  part  by  Suckow  and  Ueberweg ; 
the  '  Philebus  '  and  '  Cratylus  '  by  Schaarschmidt ; 
the  <Meno'  and  'Euthydemus'  by  Ast  and  Schaar- 
schmidt ;  but  partly  by  their  internal  character,  and 
partly  by  the  evidence  of  Aristotle  and  by  references 

1  Besides  the  numerous  dis-  Naturl.  Ordnwng  d.  plat.  ScJ>r.t 
cussiona  on  separate  works  M57.  Susemihl,  Genet.  Knt* 
we  may  quote  Schleiermacher,  nrieJtl.  d.  plat.  Phil.  1855  f. 
Plato'tWerke,  1804(2. Aufl.  1816);  Ueberweg,  Uiitersiich.v.1.  Aecht- 
Ast,  Plate's  Leben  iind  Schriften,  Keit  u.  Zeitfolge  plat.  Sohr.  1861. 
1816.  Socher,  I 'eber  Plato's  Qrundriss,  i.  §  4.  H.  v.  Stein, 
tehriften,  1820.  K.F.Hermann  7  Sticker  z.  Gesch.  d .  Platimism  us, 
(*?//;.  p.  126,  note);  Eitter,  ii.  181  1862,  1864.  Schaarschmidt, 
if.  Brandis,  ii.  a.  161  ff.  Stall-  Die  Samiulnng  d.  plat.  Schr. 
baum  in  the  introductions  to  his  18fi6.  Grote,  Plato,  1865.  Rib- 
edition  of  Plato.  Steinhart  in  bing,  Oenet.  EntmicU.  d.  plat. 
Plato's  Werke  uhers.  v.  Muller,  Ideenlehre,  1863  f.ii.  Tbl.  Zeller, 
1850  ff.  Suckow,  Form  dcr pla-  Plato  and  the  Older 
to*i*cKen  Sehriftm,  1855  ;  Hunk,  chap.  i}. 


§40]  PLATO'S  WRITINGS.  181 

in  Plato,  they  are  proved  to  be  genuine.1  The  same 
holds  good  of  the  *  Critias,'  which  Socher  and  Suckow 
rejected,  the  *  Apology '  and  the  '  Crito,'  which  Ast 
considered  un-Platonic.  The  *  Laws,'  which,  following 
Ast,  I  attacked  in  my  *  Platonic  Studies,'  and  which 
Suckow,  Kibbing,  Striimpell  (« Prakt.  Phil.  d.  Gr.' 
i.  457),  and  Oncken  («  Staatsl.  d.  Arist.'  i.  194  ff.)  con- 
sider spurious,  must  be  regarded  both  on  internal  and 
external  grounds  as  a  work  of  Plato  which  he  left  un- 
finished, and  which  was  published,not  without  alteration, 
by  Philippus  of  Opus  (according  to  Diog.  iii.  37).  The 
*  Hippias  Minor,'  for  which  we  have  good  evidence, 
may  be  defended  as  a  work  of  youth,  the  *  Euthyphro ' 
as  an  occasional  treatise,  and  in  regard  to  the  *  Lysis,' 
'  Charmides,'  and  '  Laches,'  there  is  less  difficulty  still. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  *  Menexenus '  is  justly  given 
up  by  most  authorities ;  and  the  balance  is  strongly 
against  the  '  Hippias  Major,'  the  *  Alcibiades  I.,'  and 
the  'Ion.'  The  'Alcibiades  II.,'  the  'Theages,'  the 
'  Anterastae,'  the  ' Epinomis,'  the  '  Hipparchus,'  the 
'  Minos,'  the  '  Clitophon '  are  only  defended  by  Grote 
on  the  ground  of  the  supposed  genuineness  of  the 
Alexandrian  lists  (see  Diog.  iii.  56  ff.).  The  spuriousness 
of  the  '  Definitions  'is  beyond  doubt :  the  '  Letters  'are 
the  work  of  various  authors  and  dates,  but  not  one  was 
written  by  Plato. 

The  date  of  the  writings  of  Plato  can  only  be  fixed 
approximately  in  the  case  of  a  few  by  their  relation 
to  certain  events  ('Euthyphro,'  'Apology,'  'Crito,' 

1  Farm.  129  B  ft,  130  E  ff.,  14  O,  15  B;  M*u>,  80  D  ft, to 
are  plainly  referred  to  in  Philebiu,  Pluedo,  78  B  f. 


188  PLATO.  [§ « 

'  Meno,'  90  A ;  'Theaetetus,' ira*., « Symp.'  193  A),  or  by 
trustworthy  statements  (*  Laws,'  see  above).  The  order 
can  be  explained  either  by  a  certain  arranged  plan,  or 
from  Plato's  own  development,  or  from  the  accidental 
relation  of  the  various  occasions  and  impulses  which  led 
to  the  composition  of  each  work.  The  first  principle 
only  has  been  regarded  by  Schleiermacher,  the  second 
by  Hermann,  the  third  by  Socher  and  Ast ;  while  re- 
cent scholars  have  considered  all  three  as  correct  within 
limits,  however  different  their  verdict  on  the  effect 
of  each  upon  the  result.  No  assistance  can  be  derived 
for  the  decision  of  the  question  and  the  settlement  of 
the  order  in  which  the  various  treatises  were  composed 
from  the  traditional  classifications  of  the  dialogues,  or 
the  trilogies  into  which  Aristophanes  (about  200  B.C.) 
arranged  fifteen  of  the  dialogues,  or  the  tetralogies  into 
which  Thrasylus  (20  A.D.)  arranged  the  whole.  With 
the  exception  therefore  of  a  few  chronological  data, 
we  are  limited  entirely  to  internal  evidence ;  and  in 
this  the  most  secure  grounds  are  afforded  by  the 
references,  direct  or  indirect,  in  the  dialogues  to  one 
another,  and  the  philosophic  views  set  forth  in  each. 
Next  in  importance  is  the  character  of  the  artistic 
style  and  of  the  language.  To  gather  from  one  or  the 
other  a  decisive  criterion  for  the  arrangement  of  the 
whole  works  of  Plato  is  an  attempt  which  hitherto  has 
failed,  and  Munk's  assumption  that  the  dialogues  can 
be  arranged  according  to  the  age  of  Socrates  in  them 
breaks  down  entirely. 

Following  these  lines,  we  can  first  of  all  assign  a 
portion  of  the  dialogues,  with  Hermann,  to  the  Socratio 


§40]  PLATO'S   WRITINGS.  133 

period  of  Plato,  i.e.  to  the  period  in  which  he  had  not 
as  yet  advanced  essentially  beyond  the  position  of  hi> 
teacher.  This  period  seems  to  have  come  to  an  end  with 
his  travels  to  Egypt.  To  it  we  may  ascribe  the '  Hippias 
Minor,'  the  « Euthyphro,'  the  « Apology,' the  « Crito,'  the 
'  Lysis,'  the  '  Laches,'  the  «  Charmides,'  and  the  « Prot- 
agoras '  as  the  final  and  culminating  point  in  the 
series.  On  the  other  hand,  in  the  '  Gorgias,'  *  Meno,' 
and  *  Euthydemus,'  and  still  more  definitely  in  the 
« Theaetetus,'  'Sophist,'  «  Politicus,'  '  Parmenides,' and 
'  Cratylus,'  the  doctrines  of  ideas,  of  pre-existence, 
immortality  and  the  migration  of  souls,  and,  along  with 
them,  the  proofs  of  an  acquaintance  with  Pythagorean- 
ism  are  too  distinct  to  allow  us  to  follow  Hermann  in 
j  ilacing  the  '  Euthydemus,'  '  Meno,'  and  *  Gorgias '  in 
i  he  '  Socratic  period ; '  the  dialectical  dialogues  f  Theae- 
tetus,'  &c.)  in  the  '  Megarian  period,'  for  which  indeed 
there  is  no  sufficient  historical  evidence;  and,  assigning 
Plato's  more  precise  acquaintance  with  the  Pythagorean 
philosophy  to  his  Sicilian  journey,  to  bring  down  the 
'  Phaedrus '  to  the  period  subsequent  to  this,  387-6  B.C. 
On  the  contrary,  though  the  *  Phaedrus '  cannot,  with 
Schleiermacher,  be  regarded  as  the  earliest  treatise  of 
Plato,  or  placed,  with  Usener,  in  402-3  B.C.  (*Rh. 
Mus.'  xxxv.  131  ff.),  there  is  much  to  show  that  it  was 
composed  about  396  B.C.,  before  the  *  Gorgias,'  the 
*  Meno '  (which  cannot  have  been  written  before  395 
B.C.  ;  cf.  90  A),  and  the  « Thesetetus '  (not  before  394). 
If,  therefore,  in  these  and  in  the  dialectical  dialogues 
Plato  proceeds  step  by  step  in  the  investigations  of 
which  he  had  given  a  summary  in  the  '  Phaedrus,'  the 


134  PLATO.  [§*- 

reason  is  that  lie  has  in  view  a  methodical  foundat  ton 
and  development  of  his  doctrine.  The  *  Symposium  ' 
(not  before,  but  certainly  not  long  after,  385  B.C.  ;  cf. . 
193  A),  *  Phsedo,'  and  *  Philebus '  appear  to  be  later. 
With  the  last-mentioned  is  connected  the  *  Kepublic,' 
as  we  see  from  the  direct  reference  in  505  B,  for  there 
is  no  reason  to  break  up  this  dialogue  with  Hermann 
and  Krohn l  into  different  and  heterogeneous  parts. 
On  the  *  Republic  '  follows  the  '  Tima3us,'  the  continu- 
ation of  which  is  the  '  Critias,'  an  unfinished  work, 
owing  perhaps  to  Plato's  Sicilian  travels.  The  '  Laws,' 
which  is  the  most  comprehensive  work  of  Plato,  doubt- 
less occupied  the  aged  philosopher  during  a  series  of 
years,  and  was  not  published  till  after  his  death. 

§  41.  The  Character,  Method,  and  Divisions  of  the 
Platonic  System. 

The  Platonic  philosophy  is  at  once  the  continuation 
and  the  supplement  of  the  philosophy  of  Socrates. 
Plato  has  not,  any  more  than  his  master,  a  merely 
theoretic  inquiry  in  view.  The  whole  conduct  of  man  is 
to  be  penetrated  and  guided  by  the  thoughts  which 
the  philosopher  furnishes ;  his  moral  life  is  to  be  re- 
formed by  philosophy.  Like  Socrates,  he  is  convinced 
that  this  reform  can  only  be  founded  upon  knowledge, 
and  that  the  only  true  knowledge  is  that  which  pro- 
ceeds from  the  science  of  concepts.  But  he  desires  to 
develop  this  knowledge  into  a  system.  With  this  aim 
he  first  reviews  all  his  predecessors  among  Greek  philo- 
sophers, and  avails  himself  of  all  the  points  of  contact 
1  D.flaton.  Stoat,  1876;  Die  platan.  Frage,  1878. 


§41]  THE  PLATONIC  SYSTEM.  13/5 

which  they  present;  then,  in  working  out  his  system, 
he  passes  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the  Socratic  philo- 
sophy. Out  of  the  Socratic  dialectic  grows  his  doctrine 
of  ideas ;  out  of  the  ethical  principles  of  his  master  a 
detailed  ethics  and  politics;  and  both  are  supple- 
mented by  a  philosophy  of  Nature,  which  though 
inferior  in  importance  to  the  other  branches,  yet  fills 
up  the  most  remarkable  deficiencies  in  the  Socratic 
philosophy  in  harmony  with  his  whole  point  of  view. 
It  is  due  to  this  need  of  forming  a  system  that  not  only 
is  the  scientific  method  of  Socrates  extended  in  fact  in 
the  direction  of  the  formation  of  concepts  and  their 
development,  but  the  rules  of  this  method  are  fixed 
more  definitely,  and  thus  the  way  is  prepared  for  the 
logic  of  Aristotle.  Yet  in  the  Platonic  writings 
Socrates'  mode  of  developing  ideas  in  dialogue  is  re- 
tained, because  truth  cannot  be  possessed  as  a  tradition 
but  only  as  an  independent  discovery.  But  the  per- 
sonal dialogue  becomes  artistic,  and  approaches  more 
and  more  to  continuous  speech.  Socrates  forms  the 
centre  of  the  dialogue,  partly  from  feelings  of  affec- 
tionate regard,  and  partly  from  artistic  reasons,  and 
above  all  because  philosophy  as  a  living  power  can 
only  be  completely  exhibited  in  the  perfect  philosopher. 
This  exposition  is  enlivened  by  the  myths  in  which 
Plato's  poetical  nature  is  exhibited,  no  less  than  in  the 
brilliant  mimicry  of  many  dialogues.  But  at  the  same 
time  the  myths  point  to  the  gaps  in  the  system,  inas- 
much as  they  are  only  introduced  where  the  subject 
cannot  be  treated  with  exact  scientific  precision. 

The  division  of  philosophy  into  Dialectic,  Physics, 


136  PLATO.  t§41 

and  Ethics  (cf.  §  51),  is  found  in  fact  though  not  in 
form  in  Plato ;  but  these  systematic  inquiries  are  in- 
ferior to  the  propaedeutic,  which  occupy  the  largest 
space  in  the  writings  of  his  earliest  years,  and  recur  in 
the  later  works. 

$  42.  The  Propaedeutic  Foundation  of  the 

Platonic  Philosophy. 

In  order  to  justify  philosophy  and  define  its  pur- 
poses, Plato  points  out  deficiencies  both  in  the  ordinary 
consciousness  and  in  the  sophistical  illumination  which 
sought  to  usurp  its  place.  These  deficiencies  can  only 
be  met  by  philosophic  knowledge  and  life.  Ordinary 
consciousness  in  its  theoretic  side  is  consciousness 
making  presentations ;  it  seeks  truth  partly  in  per- 
ception, partly  in  presentation  or  opinion  (Sd£a).  This 
practical  character  is  expressed  in  ordinary  virtue  and 
in  the  common  principles  of  morality.  Plato  shows  on 
his  part  that  knowledge  does  not  consist  in  perception, 
nor  in  right  presentations.  Perception  does  not  show 
us  things  as  they  are  but  as  they  appear  to  us,  and 
therefore  under  the  most  variable  and  opposite  forms. 
('Theaet.'  151  E  ff.  &c.)  Presentation,  on  the  other 
hand,  even  though  correct  in  regard  to  what  is  pre- 
sented, is  not  conscious  of  its  principles ;  it  does  not 
rest  on  instruction  but  on  simple  persuasion,  and  is 
always  in  danger  of  being  transformed  into  error.  Know- 
ledge is  always  true,  but  presentation  may  be  true  or 
false.  Even  right  presentation  is  only  midway  between 
knowledge  and  ignorance.  ('Meno,'  97  ff. ;  'Theaet.'  187 
ff.;  «Sym.'  202;  'Tim.'  51  E.)  The  case  is  the  same 


1 48]        FOUNDATION  OF  PLATO'S  SYSTEM.         187 

according  to  Plato  with  ordinary  virtue.  Resting  on 
custom  and  right  presentation,  not  on  knowledge,  and 
therefore  without  real  teachers,  it  is  entirely  at  the 
mercy  of  accidents  (Oslo,  polpa,  *  Meno,'  89  D  ff. ; 
*  Phsedo,'  82,  &c.).  It  is  so  uncertain  of  its  own  prin- 
ciples that  it  permits  evil  as  well  as  good  (evil  to 
enemies  and  good  to  friends) ;  so  impure  in  its  motives 
that  it  has  no  other  foundations  for  moral  claims  than 
pleasure  and  profit  ('Rep.'  i.  334  B  ff.,  ii.  362  E  ff.). 
It  is  only  knowledge  which  can  furnish  a  secure 
guarantee  for  the  correctness  of  action ;  for  action  is 
always  governed  by  the  views  of  the  person  acting, 
and  no  one  is  voluntarily  evil.  Hence  in  his 
earlier  writings,  Plato,  like  Socrates,  refers  all  virtues 
to  insight.  But  he  does  not  say  whether  and  how 
far  it  is  possible  to  speak  of  a  plurality  of  virtues. 
Like  Socrates,  also,  he  explains  insight  (*  Phaedo,' 
68  B  ff.)  as  that  alone  which  a  man  should  make  the 
object  of  his  life,  and  to  which  he  should  sacrifice  every- 
thing else.  But  insight  is  not  to  be  found  among 
the  Sophists  who  come  forward  as  the  moralists  of  their 
time.  On  the  contrary,  their  teaching  would  destroy 
all  the  foundations  of  science  as  well  as  of  morality. 
The  principle  that  man  is  the  measure  of  all  things, 
and  that  what  seems  true  to  a  man  is  true  for  him,  over- 
throws all  truth,  including  the  proof  of  the  principle  so 
asserted.  ('Theset.'  170  f.,  177  ff.)  To  maintain 
that  pleasure  is  the  highest  object  of  life,  and  that 
everything  is  permitted  to  a  man  which  is  right  in  his 
eyes,  is  to  confound  the  good  with  the  pleasant,  the 
essential  and  unchangeable  with  the  phenomenal, 


138  PLATO.  [|  42 

which  admits  of  no  fixed  limitation.  Such  a  principle 
mingles  that  which  has  an  absolute  value  with  what  may 
be  good  or  bad,  and  is  as  a  rule  conditioned  by  its 
opposite,  pain.  ('Gorg.'  466  ff.,  488  ff . ;  'Phileb.'  i3 
ff. ;  *  Rep.'  i.  348  ff.,  vi.  505  C,  ix.  583  f.)  Hence 
sophistic,  which  maintains  these  doctrines,  and  rhetoric, 
which  gives  them  a  practical  application,  can  only  be 
regarded  as  the  opposites  of  the  true  art  of  life  and 
science ;  and  can  only  be  regarded  as  a  sort  of  second- 
ary art,  or  scientific  faculty,  which  puts  appearance  in 
the  place  of  reality.  («  Gorg.'  462  ff. ;  « Soph.'  223  B 
ff.,  232  ff.,  254  A  ff.,  264  D  ff. ;  «  Phaedo,'  259  E  ff.) 

It  is  philosophy  and  philosophy  only  which  renders 
the  service  promised  by  sophistic.  The  root  of  philo- 
sophy is  Eros,  the  effort  of  the  mortal  to  win  immor- 
tality, which  attains  its  proper  aim  by  the  progress  from 
the  sensual  to  the  intellectual,  from  the  individual  to 
the  general,  in  the  intuition  and  exposition  of  the  idea. 
(<  Symp.'  201  D  ff. ; « Phsdr.'  243  E  ff.).  But  ideas  are 
"known  by  means  of  thinking  in  concepts  or  dialectical 
thought  (SidXsKTiKr)  ptfo&os,  « Rep/  vii.  533  C).  This 
thought  has  a  double  mission.  It  forms  concepts  by 
which  we  rise  from  the  individual  to  the  general,  the 
conditioned  to  the  unconditioned,  and  it  divides  them. 
This  division  brings  us  down  by  natural  intermediaries 
from  the  general  to  the  particular,  and  thus  instructs 
us  in  the  mutual  relation  of  concepts,  the  possibility  or 
impossibility  of  uniting  them ;  their  arrangement  as 
superior,  inferior,  or  co-ordinate.  In  the  formation  of 
concepts  Plato  follows  the  same  principles  as  his  master, 
but  he  puts  these  principles  in  more  precise  terms.  A 


542]        FOUNDATION  OF  PLATO S  SYSTEM.         139 

special  means  for  this  object  is  found  in  the  testing  of 
presuppositions  by  their  consequences,  which  in  the 
*  Parmenides '  assumes  the  form  of  a  development  of 
concepts  by  antinomies.  In  regard  to  classification  he 
demands  that  it  should  rest  in  the  qualitative  difference 
of  things,  and  proceed  progressively  without  omitting 
any  intermediate  etep  (this,  according  .to  '  Phileb.' 
17  A,  is  exactly  the  distinction  between  SiaX-stcriicus 
and  sptaTi/cws  Troisicrdai  TOVS  \6yovs).  Hence  dichotomy 
is  preferred  before  any  other  kind  of  division.1  But 
as  Plato  shows  in  the  Cratylus,  the  dialectician  has 
also  to  decide  on  the  correctness  of  expression  in 
language,  since  on  this  entirely  depends  the  extent  to 
which  he  sets  forth  the  nature  of  the  things  which  he 
has  to  describe.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  a  mistake  to 
gather  from  words  conclusions  which  are  only  warranted 
by  the  concept  of  the  matter.  But  as  knowledge  by 
concepts  and  moral  action  were  most  closely  united  by 
Socrates,  so  also  in  Plato.  Philosophy  in  his  view  of  it 
not  only  includes  all  knowledge  when  this  is  pursued  in 
the  correct  manner,  but  it  also  secures  the  unfailing  ful- 
filment of  moral  duties.  It  is  the  elevation  of  the 
entire  man  out  of  the  life  of  the  senses ;  the  application 
of  the  intellect  to  the  idea :  all  other  cultivation  and 
education  is  merely  a  preparation  for  it  ('Eep.'  vii. 
514  ff.,  521  C  ff.;  ii.  376  E  ff.;  iii.  401  B  ff.), 
whether  it  be  the  cultivation  of  the  character  by  music 
and  gymnastics,  which  accustoms  a  man  to  do  what  is 

1  The  chief  passages  in  sup-  511  B;  Parm.  135  C;  Soph. 
port  of  this  are:  Plucdr.  2ti5  C  251  ff.;  Putit.  262  ff. ;  Phileb 
ff. ;  R»f.  vii.  533  C  f .,  537  C,  vi  16  B  ff. 


140  PLATO.  t$<2 

right  and  love  what  is  beautiful ;  or  the  cultivation 
of  thought  by  the  mathematical  sciences,  which  are 
mainly  concerned  in  leading  men  from  what  is  sensuous 
to  what  is  not  sensuous.  The  peculiar  organ  of  philo- 
sophy is  the  art  of  thinking  by  concepts  (that  is,  dialec- 
tic), and  ideas  are  the  essential  object  of  this  thought. 

§  43.  Dialectic,  or  the  Doctrine  of  Ideas. 

Socrates  had  explained  that  only  the  knowledge  of 
concepts  guarantees  a  true  knowledge.  Plato  goes 
further,  and  maintains  that  it  is  only  by  reflection  in 
concepts,  in  the  forms  of  things,  or  *  ideas,'  that  true 
and  original  Being  can  be  attained.  This  principle  arose 
out  of  the  Socratic,  owing  to  the  presupposition  in  whicli 
Plato  agrees  with  Parmenides  (see  supra,  p.  61),  that 
only  Being,  as  such,  can  be  known  ;  the  truth  of  our  con- 
ceptions therefore  is  conditioned  by  the  reality  of  their 
object,  and  keeps  step  with  it.  ('  Kep.'  v.  476,  E  ff.,  vi. 
511  D;  <Thea3t.'  188  D.  f.)  What  is  thought,  there- 
fore, must  be  as  distinctly  separated  from  what  if 
presented  as  thinking  from  forming  presentations. 
(<  Tim.'  51  D.)  From  this  point  of  view  the  reality  of 
ideas  becomes  the  necessary  condition  of  the  possibility 
of  scientific  thought.1  The  same  result  follows  from 
the  contemplation  of  Being  as  such.  All  that  we 
perceive,  as  Heracleitus  had  shown,  is  subject  to  cease- 
less change,  it  is  ever  alternating  between  two  opposite 
conditions,  and  exhibits  none  of  its  qualities  pure  and 

1  Parm.  135  B.     tl  yt  rtt  8?)  indffrov  T*I»   ovrV    iel    that,   Kal 

.   .  .  at  n^   edrrft  tlHi)  TWV    ovrwv  o'urw   ryv  rov    Sia\fytffdeu  Swufj.tr 

(Tycu  .  .   .    ovSt     oiroi    rp(\l/ft    rV  ira.vTjara.cn 
lu^oiay  ?{«,  M*  iS*  «'5«u-  ruv 


§48]  PLATCfS  DIALECTIC.  141 

entire.  That  only  can  be  lasting,  consistent,  and  free 
from  admixture  with  everything  else  which  is  inacces- 
sible to  the  senses,  and  known  by  thought  only.  All 
that  is  individual  has  number  and  parts  ;  but  individual 
things  become  that  which  they  are  only  by  the 
common  nature  which  is  apprehended  in  the  concept. 
All  that  is  phenomenal  has  its  object  in  a  Being ;  it  is 
so,  because  it  is  good  that  it  should  be  so  (the  world,  as 
Anaxagoras  and  Socrates  taught,  is  the  work  of  reason), 
and  in  like  manner  all  our  activity  should  be  directed  to 
some  rational  aim.  These  objects  can  only  lie  in  the 
realisation  of  that  in  which  thought  discovers  the 
unchangeable  originals  of  things — in  concepts.1  Hence, 
in  the  belief  of  Plato,  we  are  compelled  on  every  ground 
to  distinguish  the  non-sensuous  essence  of  things  as 
the  only  true  Being  from  their  appearance  as  objects 
of  sense. 

As  is  clear  from  what  we  have  said,  Plato  sees  this 
essence  of  things  in  their  form  (slSos,  I8£a — the  two  are 
identical  in  meaning),  i.e.  in  the  general,  in  that  which 
is  found  in  common  in  a  series  of  individual  things,  and 
makes  up  the  concept  common  to  them  all.  *  We 
assume  one  idea  when  we  denote  a  number  of  separate 
things  by  one  name '  ('  Eep.'  x.  596  A,  cf.  vi.  507  B  ; 
« The*'t.'  185  B  f. ;  «  Parm.'  132  C  ;  Arist.  « Metaph.' xiii. 
4,  1U78  b.  30,  i.  9,  990  b.  6,  &c.)  ;  on  the  other  hand,  a 
separate  thing  as  such  (as  perhaps  the  soul,  of  which 
Hitter  and  others  believed  this  to  hold  good)  can  never 

'   Pha-do,  74,  A  ff.,  78  Df.,  97  B;    Thecet.    176    E;   Arist.   Me- 

B-103  C;  Hep.  v.  478  E  ff.,  vii.  taph.  i.  6,  init.;  xiii.  9,  1086  a 

623  C  ff.,  x.  596  A  ;  Tim.  27  E.  ff.,  36  ff,,  of.  i.  9,  990  b.  8  ff. 
68  E:  Parm.  131  E;  Phileb.  64 


14»  PLATO.  f§ « 

be  an  idea.  But  according  to  Plato,  whose  contention 
with  Antisthenes  turns  on  this  point  (see  p.  118),  this 
universal  does  not  exist  merely  in  our  thought  or  in 
the  thought  of  the  Deity.1  It  exists  purely  for  itself 
and  in  itself,  and  is  always  in  the  same  form,  subject 
to  no  change  of  any  kind  ;  it  is  the  eternal  pattern  of 
that  which  participates  in  it,  but  separate  from  it 
(xa>pis),  and  only  to  be  contemplated  with  the  intelli- 
gence («  Symp.'  211  A ;  «  Phsedo,'  78  D,  100  B  ;  <  Farm.' 
135  A ;  <Kep.'  vi.  507  B  ;  '  Tim.'  28  A,  51  B  f.);  the 
4  ideas  '  are  as  Aristotle  is  accustomed  to  denote  them, 
Xcopia-Ta ;  and  it  is  due  to  this  independent  existence 
that  they  are  the  only  true  and  original  elements  of 
reality,  to  which  everything  that  becomes  or  changes 
owes  what  reality  it  possesses.  They  are  named  the 
ov<Tia,  the  ovrws  ov,  S  ianv  ov,  the  self-existence,  or 
the  essence  (an  sich)  of  things,2  and  because  there  is 
only  one  idea  of  each  class  of  things  ('  Farm.'  131  E, 
132  C ;«  Kep.'  vi.  493  E,  507  B),  ideas  are  also  termed 
evdSss  or  povdSes  ('Phileb.'  15  A  f.).  Thus  they  are 
opposed  as  having  unity  to  the  plurality  of  things,  as 
unchangeable  to  change.  If  in  the  world  of  the  senses 
we  can  with  Heracleitus  find  nothing  but  a  becoming, 

1  An    assumption  which  has  Farm.  133  D  ;  <r<j>atpa,  avr^i  fi  etjg. 
had    many  adherents  from   the  Phileb.  62  A  ;  avrb  Ka\6v,  &c.  o 
time  of  the  Neo-Pythagorean  and  larw  Ztcaffrov,  Rep.   vi.  607  B  : 
Neo-Platonic    schools   till    now.  hence  in  Aristotle  not  only  avrb  rb 
Plato  expressly  opposes  it :  Pwm.  iyaQ6v,  &c.,  but  also  avrb  kyaBbv, 
132    B;    Tim.   61    B;   and   Rtp.  ivr),   li/  KO.\   6v,  and  in   a  word 
X.  697  B  cannot  be  quoted  in  its  aiTodvOpcuvos,     avroayadSv,    aiiro- 
favour.  tftffT-fifj.il,   avrofKaffTov,  &C.       Of. 

2  oirb  ?KO(rroy,  atnb  rb  itaMy,  Bonitz,  Ind.  Aritt.  124  b.  52  ff., 
ofrrb  rb  iva66r,  Phado,  65  D,  78  D ;  128  b.  46  ff . 

f<rr« 


§48]  PLATV8  DIALECTIC.  143 

ideas  present  to  us  Being,  in  which  alone  Plato,  like 
Parmenides  whom  he  so  highly  honoured,  found  the 
real  object  of  science.  But  he  does  not  regard  this 
Being  as  admitting  no  distinctions,  like  the  Being  of 
the  Eleatics ;  in  the  « Sophist'  (244  B  ff.,  251  ff.)  he 
shows  that  everything  that  has  Being,  as  a  definite 
object,  includes  in  spite  of  its  unity  a  plurality  of 
qualities,  and  in  being  distinct  from  everything  else  it 
possesses  an  infinite  amount  of  not-being  (i.e.  other- 
being).  Hence  in  every  concept  we  must  ask  what  are 
the  other  concepts  with  which  it  can  or  cannot  combine, 
and  in  the  'Parmenides'  Plato  indirectly  contradicts  both 
the  assumption  that  there  is  only  plurality  without  unity, 
and  the  assumption  that  there  is  only  unity  without 
plurality.  In  his  later  period  he  followed  the  Pytha- 
goreans in  designating  the  ideas  as  numbers  (cf.  §  50). 
This  form  of  exposition  is  not  found  in  his  writings, 
though  he  approaches  to  it  in  the  *  Philebus'  (14  C), 
where  with  a  distinct  reference  to  the  Pythagorean 
doctrine  (and  Philolaus  more  particularly)  he  arguesthat 
not  only  things  but  also  the  unified  eternal  essences 
consist  of  one  and  many,  and  are  at  once  limited 
and  unlimited.  In  the  same  way  the  unchangeability 
of  ideas  must  not  be  taken  to  mean  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  conceive  them  as  the  causes  of  what  becomes 
and  changes.  It  is  only  from  them  that  what  is  change- 
able receives  the  Being  which  it  possesses,  and  in  the 
«Thgedo'(99  D  ff.)  Plato  actually  denotes  the  ideas 
as  the  causes  by  which  all  that  is,  is.  According  to 
« Rep.'  vi.  508  E,  vii.  517  B,  the  idea  of  good  is  the 
cause  of  all  perfection,  of  all  Being  and  knowledge,  but 


144  PLATO.  [§  43 

the  Divine  reason  is  coincident  with  the  good  («  Phil.' 
22  C),  and  in  the  *  Philebus  *  the  «  cause  '  from  which 
comes  all  order  and  reason  in  the  world  occupies  the 
place  elsewhere  taken  by  the  ideas  (*  Phil.'  23  C  f.,  26 
E  f.,  28  C  ff.).  Still  more  definitely  does  the 
'Sophist'  show  that  true  Being  is  regarded  as  operative 
force,  to  which  therefore  motion,  life,  soul,  and  reason 
must  be  assigned  (248  A  ff.).  How  this  can  be  har- 
monised with  the  unchangeability  of  ideas  Plato  has 
not  attempted  to  show,  and  with  him  this  dynamic 
conception  of  ideas  as  operative  powers  must  be  kept 
in  the  rear  of  the  ontological  conception,  in  which  they 
are  the  unchangeable  forms  of  things. 

As  the  ideas  are  nothing  else  than  general  ideas 
raised  to  a  separate  existence  as  metaphysical  realities, 
there  must  be  ideas  of  everything  which  can  be  referred 
to  a  general  concept,  and  denoted  by  a  corresponding 
word.  This  conclusion  was  drawn  by  Plato.  In  his 
writings  we  find  ideas  of  all  possible  things,  not  of 
substances  only,  but  of  qualities,  relations  and  activi- 
ties ;  not  of  natural  things  only,  but  of  the  creations 
of  art ;  not  only  of  what  is  valuable,  but  of  what  is 
bad  and  contemptible.  We  find  the  great-in-itself, 
the  double-in-itself,  the  name-in-itself,  the  bed-in- 
itself,  the  slave-in-himself ;  the  'idea'  of  filth,  injus- 
tice, not-being,  &c.  It  was  not  till  his  later  period 
that  Plato  limited  ideas  to  natural  objects  (cf.  p.  142). 
All  these  ideas  stand  in  a  definite  relation  to  one 
another,  and  to  set  their  relation  forth  systematically 
in  the  mission  of  science  (see  p.  138).  Yet  not  only  is 
the  thought  of  an  a 'priori  construction  of  this  system  of 


J<3]  PLATO'S  DIALECTIC.  146 

concepts  unknown  to  Plato,  but  he  hardly  makes  any  at- 
tempt to  set  it  forth  logically.  It  is  only  of  the  supreme 
apex,  which  as  such  is  called  the  '  idea  of  good,'  that 
he  speaks  at  length  («  Kep.'  vi.  504  E  ff.,  vii.  517  B). 
All  that  is  in  the  world  is  as  it  is,  because  it  is  best  so; 
and  it  is  only  really  conceived  when  it  is  referred  to 
the  good  as  its  final  object  ('  Phsedo,'  97  B).  For 
Plato  this  thought  assumes  the  shape  that  the  good  is 
the  final  ground  of  all  Being  and  knowledge  ;  it  is  the 
idea  of  good  which,  elevated  above  both,  gives  to  the 
existent  its  reality  and  to  him  who  knows  his  capacity 
for  reason  and  his  knowledge.  For  Plato,  therefore,  the 
good  as  the  absolute  ground  of  all  Being  is  coincident 
with  the  Deity,  which  is  described  precisely  as  Being 
(« Tim.'  28  C,  37  A),  and  is  explained  to  be  identical 
with  it  (« Phileb.'  22  C,  cf.  Stob.  *  Eel.'  i.  58).  But  the 
question  whether  the  good,  which  like  all  ideas  is  a 
universal,  and  as  the  highest  idea  must  be  the  most 
universal  and  the  highest  class,  can  be  at  once  the  Deity, 
and  thus  become  a  person,  Plato  never  raised  ;  indeed 
he  never  inquired  about  the  personality  of  God. 

§  44.  Plato's  Physics,  Matter,  and  the  World-soul. 

Though  each  idea  is  one,  the  things  which  come 
under  it  are  infinite  in  number ;  though  the  ideas  are 
eternal  and  unchangeable,  things  are  regarded  as  deri- 
vative, perishable,  and  in  constant  change  j  though  the 
idea  is  what  it  is,  pure  and  complete,  things  are  never 
so.  Ideas  possess^  complete  Being,  but  things  waver 
between  Being  and  not-being,  just  as  presentation,  of 


148  PLATO.  [§  44 

which  they  are  the  object,  wavers  between  knowledge 
and  ignorance.  This  incompleteness  of  sensuous  exist- 
ence, Plato  believes,  can  only  be  explained  from  the  fact 
that  it  only  springs  in  part  from  the  idea,  while  part 
of  its  origin  is  derived  from  another  and  different 
principle.  As  all  that  it  possesses  of  reality  and  com- 
pleteness springs  from  the  idea,  the  nature  of  the 
second  principle  can  only  be  sought  in  that  which 
distinguishes  the  phenomena  of  sense  from  the  idea. 
It  can  only  be  thought  of  as  unlimited,  ever-changing, 
non-existent,  and  unknowable.  These  are  the  de- 
finitions which  Plato  ascribes  to  that  basis  of  sensuous 
existence  which,  following  Aristotle,  we  are  accustomed 
to  call  the  Platonic  *  matter.'  He  describes  it  as  the 
unlimited  ('Phil.'  24  A  ff.),  or,  as  ke  asserted  later 
(according  to  Aristotle),  as  the  great  and  small ;  as 
that  which  is  in  itself  formless,  but  lies  at  the  base  of 
all  the  changing  forms  of  phenomena,  and  includes 
them  ;  as  space  (^o6pa)  which  allows  room  to  all  that 
becomes ;  as  something  which  cannot  be  known  by 
thought  or  perception,  or  presentation,  but  about  which 
only  laborious  conclusions  can  be  drawn  (by  a  \oyi<rf*,bs 
vodos,  «Tim.'  49  A  to  52  D).  It  harmonises  with  this, 
that  Plato  is  said,  according  to  Aristotle '  and  Hermo- 
dorus  (ap.  Sirapl.  *  Phys.'  248,  13),  to  have  spoken  of  it 
simply  as  not-being.  For  Leucippus  and  Democritus 
had  already  placed  empty  space  on  an  equality  with 
not-being,  and  if  Being  and  not-being  are  mingled  in 
sensuous  things,  and  all  the  Being  is  derived  from  the 

1  Phyi.  i.  9,  191  b.  36;  192  a.    mus  in  Simpl.  PA//*.  431.  8,  and 
6;  cf.    u.  2,  201  b.  20.    Eude-    also  7m.  52  E,  $7  B.     * 


§44]  PL ATO >S  PHYSICS.  147 

idea,  only  not-being  is  left  for  the  second  constituent 
element,  or  matter.  If  true  being  (according  to  *  Kep.' 
v.  477  A)  is  the  object  of  knowledge  by  thought,  and 
that  which  hovers  between  Being  and  not-being  is  the 
object  of  presentation  and  perception,  that  which  cannot 
be  known  in  either  way  must  be  not-being.  Hence  by 
Plato's  matter  we  have  to  understand  not  a  mass  filling 
space  but  space  itself.  He  never  mentions  it  as  that 
out  of  which  but  only  that  in  which  things  arise. 
According  to  him  (cf.  §  45),  bodies  are  formed  when 
certain  portions  of  space  are  thrown  into  the  shapes  of 
the  four  elements.  That  it  is  not  a  corporeal  mass  out  of 
which  they  arise  in  this  manner  is  clear  from  the  assertion 
that  when  they  change  into  one  another  they  are  broken 
up  into  their  smallest  plane  dimensions  in  order  to  be 
compounded  anew  out  of  these.  To  carry  this  theory 
out  strictly  was  difficult ;  and  in  another  place  ('  Tim.' 
30  A,  52  D  f.,  69  B)  he  represents  the  matter  as  if  the 
Deity,  when  engaged  in  the  formation  of  the  elements, 
had  found  '  all  that  is  visible '  already  in  existence  as  a 
chaotic  mass  moving  without  rule.  But  this  description 
cannot  in  any  case  be  taken  strictly,  for  it  would  not  suit 
with  a  mass  which  fills  space,  but  is  otherwise  without 
form  and  definition  ('Tim.'  49  E  ff.).  If  we  must  make 
some  distinction  between  this  form  of  exposition  and 
Plato's  own  opinion,  there  is  nothing  to  prevent  us 
from  supposing  that  the  condensation  of  space  into 
matter  is  one  of  those  mythical  traits  in  which  the 
'  Timaeus '  is  so  rich. 

Though  it  is  said  to  be  not-being  which  distinguishes 
things  from  ideas,  the  real  in  both  is  the  same.  Things 


148  PLATO.  [|44 


owe  all  the  being  they  have  to  the 
of  ideas  and  to  their  participation  in  them  (/j,£0sj;is, 
Koivwvia).  But  as,  on  the  other  hand,  *  not-being  '  is 
the  source  of  all  the  qualities  by  which  the  corporeal 
is  distinguished  from  the  incorporeal,  we  must  recog- 
nise in  them  a  second  kind  of  causality  besides  that  of 
the  ideas  and  the  causality  of  a  blind,  irrational  neces- 
sity, which  is  related,  not  to  the  natural  aims,  but  to 
the  conditions  of  their  realisation,  and  limits  reason  in 
realising  them  ('Tim.'  46  C  f.,  48  A,  56  C;  'Phaedo,'  98 
B  ff.).  Besides  that  which  things  bring  into  life  from 
ideas,  there  is  in  them  a  second  element  to  which  we 
must  also  attribute  a  being,  only  of  a  ditferent  kind  from 
the  being  of  ideas.  Ideas  and  things  appear  separate 
from  another  :  the  first  are  the  patterns  (TrapaSsfy/jLara, 
'  Theset.'  176  E,  «  Tim.'  28  C,  &c.),  these  are  the  copies. 
From  this  point  of  view  the  Platonic  system,  though 
not  pantheistic  —  for  the  numerous  ideas  are  not  parts 
or  emanations  of  a  supreme  idea  —  is  nevertheless 
monistic.  It  is  a  pure  idealism,  for  things  are  im- 
manent in  ideas.  From  the  other  point  of  view  it  is 
dualistic,  for  ideas  are  separate  from  things  and  things 
from  ideas.  But  its  peculiar  nature  can  only  be 
recognised  when  it  is  known  why  Plato  did  not  aban- 
don one  or  the  other  of  these  views,  or  carry  neither 
out  without  regard  to  the  other,  or  attempt  to  unite 
both  into  an  harmonious  whole. 

If  the  corporeal  is  separated  from  the  idea  by  such 
a  wide  interval  as  Plato  assumes,  an  intermediating 
member  is  needed  to  combine  the  two,  and  this  member 
can  only  be  the  soul.  The  soul  alone,  as  the  element 


§44]  PLATO'S  PHYSICS.  14» 

which  moves  itself,  can  be  the  source  of  movement 
and  \ife(dp%r)  Ktvriasws)  for  the  corporeal  world.  Only 
by  its  intervention  can  reason  be  planted  in  the  world, 
and  the  order  of  the  universe,  the  power  of  thought 
and  presentation  in  individual  natural  beings,  be  brought 
about  ('  Phaed.'  245  C,  *  Laws,'  x.  891  E  tf., « Phileb.'  30 
A  f.,  '  Tim.'  30  A).  The  ^imaeus '  gives  a  description 
of  the  formation  of  the  world-soul,  in  which,  veiled  amid 
much  that  is  fantastic,  the  true  meaning  seems  to  be  that 
the  soul  stands  midway  between  ideas  and  the  corporeal 
world,  and  unites  both.  It  is  incorporeal  and  ever  the 
same,  like  ideas,  but  spread  abroad  through  the  world, 
and  moving  it  by  virtue  of  its  own  original  motion. 
It  includes  in  itself  all  the  relations  of  number  and 
measure ;  it  creates  all  the  regularity  and  harmony  of 
the  world.  All  reason  and  knowledge  in  the  universe 
and  in  the  individual  are  caused  by  its  rationality  and 
knowledge.  The  question  of  its  personality  is  obviously 
not  so  much  as  raised  by  Plato.  In  the  *  Philebus '  (25 
A  ff.)  the  same  position  which  is  here  taken  by  the 
world-soul  is  assumed  by  the  '  Limit '  (irspas) — which  is 
also  said  to  be  the  basis  of  all  order  and  measure — and 
in  the  Aristotelian  account  of  the  Platonic  doctrines  (see 
infra,  §  50),  by  '  mathematics,'  the  study  of  which  even 
in  Plato  himself  forms  the  transition  to  the  study 
of  ideas.  Here,  however,  the  form,  in  the  soul  the 
moving  and  enlivening  power,  is  the  connecting  link 
between  idea  and  phenomenon.  But  though  Plato  has 
not  put  them  both  on  the  same  level,  their  close  rela- 
tionship cannot  be  mistaken. 


180  PLATO.  K4S 

§  45.  The  Universe  and  its  Parts. 
In  order  to  explain  the  world  from  its  ultimate 
•ources,  Plato  in  his  *  Timseus '  avails  himself  of  the  cus 
ternary  form  of  a  cosmogony.  He  represents  the  creator 
of  the  world  (S^fjuovpyo,'}  as  compounding  the  soul  of 
the  world  from  its  constituent  elements  in  reference  to 
the  pattern  of  the  living  being  (the  auTo£&5oi>).  Then 
he  takes  the  matter  of  the  world  in  the  shape  of  the 
four  elements,  and  out  of  these  finally  constructs  the 
world,  and  peoples  it  with  organic  creatures.  But  not 
only  are  the  details  of  this  exposition  mythical  to  a 
great  extent,  but  the  whole  is  cast  in  such  a  mythical 
form  that  it  is  difficult  to  state  accurately  how  much 
of  it  expresses  Plato's  own  scientific  conviction. 
That  he  recognises  the  true  cause  of  the  world  in 
reason,  in  ideas,  and  the  deity,  is  beyond  doubt,  but 
the  distinction  of  the  creator  from  the  ideas  (or  more 
exactly  from  the  highest  of  the  ideas)  is  part  of  the 
exoteric  traits  (cf.  p.  144).  Though  he  does  not  appear 
consciously  to  use  the  notion  of  a  beginning  of  the 
world  in  time  as  a  mere  form  for  clothing  the  thought 
of  the  dependence  of  all  things  upon  ideal  sources, 
yet  this  notion  is  in  striking  contradiction  to  other 
definitions  in  his  doctrine,  especially  to  the  eternity  of 
the  human  spirit.  We  must  therefore  assume  that  in 
this  notion  he  is"  chiefly  occupied  with  that  idea,  but 
whether  the  origin  of  the  world  in  time  is  necessary 
for  his  object,  or  in  itself  conceivable,  he  has  not  in- 
quired. The  more  important  in  his  eyes  is  the  Uni- 
versal. As  the  work  of  reason  the  world  is  oon* 


[§48         THE    UNIVERSE  AND  ITS  PARTS.  161 

structed  with  an  object.  Phenomena  can  only  be  truly 
explained  by  final  causes,  for  material  causes  are  merely 
the  conditions  without  which  they  are  impossible. 
Plato  therefore  places  a  much  higher  value  on  the 
teleological  than  on  the  physical  view  of  nature,  and 
in  the  'Timaeua'  he  expresses  this  by  the  external 
separation  of  the  two,  and  the  precedence  given  to 
the  first. 

The  first  step  towards  the  construction  of  a  world  was 
the  formation  of  the  material,  the  four  elements.  For 
these  Plato  gives  two  sources.  From  the  teleological 
point  of  view  he  requires  fire  and  earth  as  a  condition  of 
the  visibility  and  tangibility  of  bodies ;  and  he  also  de- 
mands a  link  between  the  two,  which  must  consist  of  two 
proportionals,  because  we  have  here  to  do  with  bodies; 
and  with  Philolaus  (p.  53)  he  denotes  four  of  the  five 
regular  bodies  as  the  base-forms  of  fire,  air,  water,  and 
earth;  then,  passing  beyond  Philolaus,  he  constructs 
these  bodies  from  the  most  minute  right-angled  tri- 
angles, out  of  which  their  limiting  planes  are  composed. 
When  the  elements  pass  into  one  another  (as  is  possible 
only  among  the  three  higher)  they  are  decomposed  into 
the  triangles,  and  formed  anew  out  of  them  (p.  147). 
Each  element  has  a  natural  locality  towards  which  it 
strives ;  and  all  the  space  in  the  world  is  entirely  filled 
by  the  whole  sum  of  them. 

The  world  is  regarded  by  Plato  as  a  complete  orb ; 
the  earth  is  a  solid  orb  resting  in  the  middle ;  the  stars 
are  fixed  in  spheres  or  rings  (as  seems  to  be  the  case 
with  the  planets),  by  the  revolution  of  which  they  are 
carried  round.  When  all  the  stars  return  to  their 


158  PLATO.  N<' 

•riginal  position,  the  great  world-year  (of  10,000  years; 
i;as  run  its  course.  With  this  cycle  Plato  possibly 
connects  those  devastations  of  the  earth  by  fire  and 
water  which  he  assumes  in  the  'Timaeus'  (22  C  ff.) 
and  the  '  Laws '  (iii.  677  A  ff.).  The  stars  are  rational 
blessed  creatures,  the  *  visible  gods,'  and  in  like  manner 
the  Cosmos  is  the  one  perceivable  god,  including  in 
himself  all  other  natures,  the  copy  of  the  super-sensuous, 
the  most  perfect  and  glorious  of  created  things. 

§  46.  Plato's  Anthropology. 

It  is  part  of  the  perfection  of  the  world  that  it,  like 
its  pattern,  the  avro^yov,  includes  in  itself  all  kinds  of 
living  beings.  But  of  these  man  only  has  an  inde- 
pendent interest  for  Plato ;  on  plants  and  animals  he 
merely  bestows  a  few  occasional  remarks  of  no  great 
importance.  In  the  *  Timseus  '  he  enters  into  special 
detail  about  the  human  body ;  yet  few  of  these  physio- 
logical assumptions  stand  in  any  close  connection  with 
the  Platonic  philosophy.  The  soul  of  man  is  in  its 
nature  homogeneous  with  the  soul  of  the  universe, 
from  which  it  springs  ('Phil.'  30  A,  'Tim.'  41  D  f., 
69  C  f.).  Being  of  a  simple  and  incorporeal  nature 
it  is  by  its  power  of  self  movement  the  origin  of  motion 
in  the  body ;  inseparably  connected  with  the  idea  of 
life  it  has  neither  end  nor  beginning.1  As  the  souls 
have  descended  from  a  higher  world  into  the  earthly 
body,  they  return  after  death,  if  their  lives  have  been 

1  According    to    Pb&dr.    245     Pheedo,  102  ff.     Otherwise  in  the 
0 f .,  Meno,  86  A,  and  what  follows     'limaiui,  but  cf.  p.  149. 
from  the  proof  of  immortality  in 


§46]  PLATO'S  ANTHROPOLOGY.  153 

pure  and  devoted  to  higher  objects,  to  this  higher 
world,  while  those  who  need  correction  in  part  undergo 
punishments  in  another  world,  and  in  part  migrate 
through  the  bodies  of  men  and  animals.  In  its  earlier 
existence  our  soul  has  seen  the  ideas  of  which  it  is 
reminded  by  the  sight  of  their  sensuous  copies.1  The 
further  discussion  of  these  principles  Plato  has  given 
in  mythical  expositions,  in  regard  to  which  he  indicates 
himself  that  he  ascribes  no  scientific  value  to  the 
details,  which  vary  greatly.  Yet  they  express  his  con- 
viction, and  it  is  only  in  regard  to  the  migration  of 
souls  that  the  question  arises  whether  he  seriously 
assumed  the  entrance  of  human  souls  into  the  bodies  of 
animals.  On  the  other  hand,  the  attempt  to  disclaim 
for  Plato  the  assumption  of  personal  immortality  and 
pre-existence  2  compels  us  not  only  to  alter  the  explana 
tions  and  proofs  of  the  philosopher  in  the  most  unjusti- 
fiable manner,  or  explain  as  merely  metaphorical  and 
conventional  what  he  declares  to  be  his  most  distinct 
scientific  conviction  ;  it  also  overlooks  the  fact  that  the 
belief  in  immortality  in  Plato  is  closely  connected 
through  the  doctrine  of  reminiscence  with  his  theory 
of  knowledge,  through  the  assumption  of  future  retri- 
bution with  his  ethics  and  theology,  through  the  oppo- 
sition between  the  intellectual,  which  is  eternal,  and 
the  corporeal,  which  is  perishable,  with  his  entire  meta- 
physics. 

1  The  proofs  for  what  is  said  80  D  ff. ;  Rep.  x.  608  C  ff ;  Km.  41 

above    are    found— besides    the  D  ff. 

Phado,    where    five    proofs   are          *  TeichmQller,     Stvdien    zw 

given  for  immortality — inP/uedr.  Oetch.  der  Segriffe  (1876)  8.  107 

245  0  ff.;  Gorg.  623  ff . ;  Mono,  ft;  Die  platonische  Fragt,  1876. 


164  PLATO.  IS 46 

In  accordance  with  these  views  Plato  can  only  look 
for  the  peculiar  essence  of  the  soul  in  its  intellectual 
nature,  its  reason  (\oyta-r iicov, '  Phileb.'  22  C ;  vovs).  It 
alone  is  the  divine  and  immortal  part  of  it ;  not  till  it 
has  entered  the  body  is  it  connected  with  the  mortal 
part,  which  again  falls  into  two  sections,  courage  (Ov/tos, 
Ov/AoeiSh)  and  the  desires  (TO  £7ri6vfj,r)Tt,fcdv — also  <f>t\o- 
%pij/j.aTov).  Eeason  has  her  seat  in  the  head,  courage 
in  the  heart,  desire  in  the  lower  body  ('Eep.'  iv.  435  B 
ff. ;  'Tim.'  69  C  f.,  72  D ;  'Phaedr.'  246).  But  in  what 
relation  the  unity  of  personal  life  stands  to  this  triple 
division  of  the  soul,  to  which  part  self-consciousness  and 
volition  belong,  how  there  can  be  an  inclination  to  the 
world  of  sense  in  a  soul  which  is  free  from  corporeal  ele- 
ments, how  bodily  conditions  and  procreation  can  have 
the  deep  influence  on  the  characters  of  men  which  Plato 
ascribes  to  them — on  these  questions  Plato  gives  us  no 
help.  Nor  do  we  find  in  him  any  inquiries  into  the 
nature  of  self-consciousness  and  the  will,  and  if  he 
assumes  clearly  the  freedom  of  the  will  ('Eep.'  x.  617  E, 
619  B;  'Tim.'  4  E  ff. ;  '  Laws,'  x.  904  B),  yet  we  have 
no  indication  how  we  are  to  unite  with  this  the  Socratic 
principle,  equally  distinctly  expressed,  that  no  one  is 
voluntarily  evil  ('  Tim.'  86  D  ff. ;  '  Laws,'  v.  731  C;  734 
B,  ix.  860  D  ff.;  'Meno,'  77  B  ff.,  «Prot.'  345  P, 
358  B). 

§  47.  Plato's  Ethics. 

Plato's  Ethics  received  their  scientific  form  and  ideal 
character  from  the  connection  into  which  the  ethical 
principles  of  his  teacher  were  brought  with  his  own 


547]  PLATO'S  ETHICS.  156 

metaphysics  and  anthropology.  As  the  soul  in  its  true 
nature  belongs  to  the  world  above  the  senses,  and  in 
that  only  can  find  a  true  and  lasting  existence,  the 
possession  of  the  good  or  happiness  which  forms  the 
final  goal  of  human  effort  can  only  be  obtained  by 
elevation  into  that  higher  world.  The  body,  on  the 
other  hand,  and  sensual  life,  is  the  grave  and  prison  of 
the  soul,  which  has  received  its  irrational  elements 
through  combination  with  it,  and  is  the  source  of  all 
desires  and  all  disturbances  of  intellectual  activity. 
The  true  mission  of  man,  therefore,  lies  in  that  escape 
from  this  world,  which  the  *  Theastetus,'  176  A,  regards 
as  an  approach  to  the  divine  nature,  that  philosophic 
death  to  which  the  *  Phado '  reduces  the  life  of  the 
philosopher  (64  A-67  B.)  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
so  far  as  the  visible  is  a  copy  of  the  invisible,  it  is  a 
duty  to  use  the  sensuous  phenomenon  as  a  means  for 
obtaining  an  intuition  of  the  idea,  and  to  introduce 
the  ideas  into  objects  of  sense.  This  is  the  point  of 
view  from  which  Plato  proceeds  in  his  principles  about 
Eros  (p.  138),  and  in  the  inquiry  in  the  « Philebus '  into 
the  summum  bonum  (the  result  is  given  in  *  Phil.' 
61  ff.);  for  even  though  he  seeks  the  most  valuable 
part  of  the  good  in  reason  and  insight,  he  desires  to 
adopt  into  his  conception  not  only  knowledge  gained  by 
experience,  right  presentation,  and  art,  but  also  pleasure 
BO  far  as  this  is  compatible  with  health  of  mind ;  just 
as,  on  the  other  hand,  when  treating  of  pain  ('  Eep.' 
x.  603  E  f.),  he  does  not  require  insensibility,  but 
mastery  of  and  moderation  in  feeling.  As  in  this  he 
recognises  the  importance  of  externals  for  men,  so 


166  PLATO.  [§ « 

the  essential  condition  of  his  happiness  is,  in  Plato, 
exclusively  his  intellectual  and  moral  nature,  his  virtue. 
This  is  so  not  only  owing  to  the  reward  which  is  as- 
sured to  virtue  in  this  world  and  the  next,  hut  the  just 
man  would  be  absolutely  happier  than  the  unjust  if  he 
were  treated  by  gods  and  men  like  the  unjust,  and  the 
unjust  received  the  reward  of  the  just.  To  do  in- 
justice is  worse  than  to  suffer  injustice;  and  to  be 
punished  for  a  misdeed  is  better  than  to  go  unpunished. 
For  as  being  the  beauty  and  health  of  the  soul,  virtue 
is  at  once  happiness ;  it  brings  its  reward  with  it  as 
vice  brings  its  punishment.  It  is  the  rule  of  the  divine 
in  men  over  the  animal,  and  as  such  the  only  thing 
which  makes  us  free  and  rich,  and  assures  us  lasting 
peace  and  repose  of  mind  ('  Gorg.'  504  A  ff. ;  *  Kep.'  i. 
353  A  ff.,  iv.  443  C  ff.,  ix.  583  B  ff.,  x.  609  B  ff., 
'Theset.'  177  B  ff.  &c.) 

In  his  theory  of  virtue,  Plato  at  first  adhered  closely 
to  Socrates.  Ordinary  virtue  he  does  not  recognise  as 
virtue  at  all,  because  it  is  not  founded  on  insight,  but, 
on  the  contrary,  he  reduces  all  virtues  to  insight,  and 
maintains  that  not  only  are  they  one,  but  they  can  be 
taught.  This  view  is  found  in  the '  Laches,'  *  Charmides,' 
and  '  Protagoras '  (cf.  p.  137).  But  even  in  the  '  Meno ' 
(96  D  ff.)  he  allows  that  besides  knowledge  right  pre- 
sentation can  incite  us  to  virtue,  and  in  the  '  Eepublio ' 
(ii.  376  E,  iii.  401  B  f.,  410  B  ff.)  he  recognises  in 
this  incomplete  virtue,  which  rest  s  merely  on  habit  and 
right  presentation,  the  indispensable  preparation  for  the 
higher  virtue  which  is  founded  on  scientific  knowledge. 
But  now  he  not  only  allows  that  the  capacities  for 


M7]  PLATO'S  ETHICS  16? 

morality,  the  quiet  and  eager  temperament  (<ra><f>poa-vvr) 
and  dvSpsia,  '  Polit.'  306  f.),  sensuality,  force  of  will, 
and  power  of  thought  ('Kep.'  iii.  415,  iv.  435  E,  vi. 
487  A)  are  unequally  apportioned  in  individuals  and 
whole  nations,  but  his  psychology  makes  it  also  pos- 
sible for  him  to  combine  a  plurality  of  virtues  with  the 
unity  of  virtue,  inasmuch  as  he  assigns  to  each  of  the 
principal  virtues  a  special  place  in  the  soul.  Of  these 
principal  virtues  he  enumerates  four,  which  he  is  the 
first  to  establish  and  explain,  just  as  the  number  also 
appears  to  have  been  first  fixed  by  him.  Wisdom  con- 
sists in  the  right  quality  of  the  reason.  When  the  spirit 
maintains  the  decision  of  the  reason  on  that  which  is 
or  is  not  to  be  feared,  and  against  pleasure  and  pain, 
we  have  courage ;  self-control  (a-axfrpoa-vvri)  means  the 
harmony  of  all  the  parts  of  the  soul  on  the  question 
which  is  to  command  and  which  is  to  obey;  and 
justice  is  the  whole  extent  of  this  relation,  when  every 
part  of  the  soul  fulfils  its  mission  and  does  not  overstep 
it  ('Rep.'  iv.  441  C  ff.).  Plato  has  not  attempted  to 
develop  this  scheme  into  a  complete  system  of  ethics : 
in  his  occasional  expressions  on  moral  activities  and 
duties  he  puts  the  ethics  of  his  people  before  us  in  its 
noblest  form ;  and  if  he  sometimes  goes  beyond  it,  as 
in  forbidding  us  to  do  evil  to  an  enemy,  yet  in  other 
respects,  as  in  his  conception  of  marriage,  his  contempt 
of  manual  labour,  and  his  recognition  of  slavery,  he  is 
unable  to  break  through  its  fetters. 


166  PLATO.  If  « 

§  48.  Plato's  Politics. 

It  is  a  truly  Hellenic  trait  in  Plato's  Ethics  that 
they  are  closely  connected  with  his  Politics.  But 
while  the  old  Greek  conception  allows  moral  duties  to 
pass  almost  entirely  into  political,  Plato,  on  the  con- 
trary, carries  back  political  duties  to  moral.  He  is 
convinced  with  Socrates  that  man  should  labour  first 
for  himself,  and  only  in  the  second  place  for  the  com- 
munity ('  Symp.'  216  A).  Under  existing  circum- 
stances he  finds  no  room  for  the  philosopher  to  take  a 
part  in  politics  ('Rep.'  488  A  ff.),  and  even  in  the 
ideal  State  he  regards  such  participation  as  a  sacrifice 
which  he  offers  to  the  community  ('  Rep.'  519  C  ff., 
347  A  f.,  500  B).  The  civic  life  is  as  a  rule  mainly 
necessary  because  it  is  the  only  means  to  maintain 
virtue  in  the  world  and  raise  it  to  the  sovereign  place 
('  Rep.'  490  E  ff.).  Thus  the  essential  object  of  this 
life  is  virtue,  and  the  happiness  of  the  citizens ;  its 
chief  mission  is  the  education  of  the  people  in  virtue 
V' Gorg.'  464  B  f.,  521  D  ff. ;  'Polit.'  309  C, 
*  Rep.'  500  D,  &c.).  Though  in  the  first  instance  it 
arises  out  of  physical  needs  ('  Rep.'  369  B  ff.)  a  society 
which  was  limited  to  the  satisfaction  of  those  needs 
(like  the  '  natural  state  '  of  the  Cynics)  does  not  deserve 
the  name  of  a  State  ('Rep.'  372  D;  'Polit.'  272  B). 
All  true  virtue  rests  in  scientific  knowledge  and  philo- 
sophy. Thus  the  first  condition  of  every  sound  polity  is 
the  dominion  of  philosophy,  or,  which  comes  to  the 
same  thing,  the  rule  of  the  philosopher  ('  Rep.'  473 
C;  'Polit.'  293  C).  This  rule  must  be  absolute  and 


§  48]  PLATO'S  POLITICS.  169 

can  only  be  entrusted  to  the  few  who  are  capable  of  it, 
for  philosophy  is  not  a  matter  for  the  multitude 
(<Polit.'293  A;  'Rep.' 4 28  D).  The  constitution  of 
the  Platonic  State  is  therefore  an  aristocracy,  the  abso- 
lute rule  of  the  competent  persons,  or  philosopher 
restrained  by  no  law  ('Rep.'  428  E,  433  ff . ;  *  Pol  it.' 
294  A  ff.,  297  A  ff.).  In  order  to  give  the  ruling 
order  the  necessary  power,  and  to  protect  the  State  ex- 
ternally, the  order  of  warriors  (<f)v\aK£s,  iTriicovpoi)  must 
be  added  to  it  as  a  second  ;  while  the  mass  of  the  popu- 
lation, the  agriculturists,  and  artisans,  form  a  third 
order  excluded  from  all  political  activity  and  confined  to 
the  acquisition  of  money  ('Rep.'  373  D  ff.).  This 
separation  of  orders  Plato  founds  on  the  principle  of  the 
division  of  labour,  but  its  special  motive  lies  in  the  con- 
viction that  only  a  minority  are  capable  of  cultivation 
for  the  higher  political  functions ;  and  inasmuch  as  he 
also  presupposes  (Rep.  415  f.)  that  the  capacity  for 
these  functions  is  as  a  rule  hereditary,  the  division  of 
the  three  orders  approaches  to  a  distinction  of  castes. 
Plato  himself  compares  them  to  the  three  parts  of  the 
soul,  and  apportions  the  virtues  of  the  community  to 
them,  as  he  had  apportioned  the  virtues  of  the  individual 
to  the  three  parts  of  the  soul  (427  D  ff.).  But  in 
order  that  the  two  higher  classes  may  discharge  their 
mission  satisfactorily  (the  aristocratic  philosopher  cares 
little  for  the  third  order  and  its  banausic  arrange- 
ments) their  education  and  the  arrangements  of  their 
life  must  be  entirely  conducted  by  the  State,  and 
directed  to  its  aims.  The  State  takes  care  that  the 
citizens  shall  be  begotten  by  the  best  parents  under 


180  PLATO.  [§48 

(he  moot  favourable  circumstances;  it  gives  them  by 
music  (cf.  p.  162)  and  gymnastic  an  education,  in  which 
even  the  women  participate,  just  as  they  subsequently 
share  in  civic  and  martial  duties.  It  trains  the  future 
governors  by  mathematical  sciences  and  dialectic  for 
their  duties,  in  order  that  after  many  years  of  practical 
activity,  when  they  have  been  approved  on  every  side, 
they  may  in  their  fiftieth  year  be  adopted  into  the 
highest  order,  the  members  of  which  conduct  the 
management  of  the  State  in  succession.  For  the  rest 
of  their  lives  they  are  compelled  to  belong  wholly  to 
this  order,  for  by  the  removal  of  private  property,  and 
the  family,  the  State  cuts  asunder  the  roots  of  those 
private  interests  which  are  the  hereditary  foes  of  the 
unity  of  the  State.  That  Plato  is  quite  in  earnest 
with  these  proposals,  and  regards  them  not  only  as 
wholesome  but  as  capable  of  being  carried  out,  is  be- 
yond a  doubt.  All  other  kinds  of  constitution,  except 
his  own,  he  regards  as  perversions  (he  enumerates  six 
in  «  Pol.'  300  ff,,  and  four  in  «  Rep.'  viii.,  ix. ;  cf.  '  Rep.' 
449  A,  &c.).  This  State  cannot  be  explained  merely  by 
the  pattern  of  Spartan  or  Pythagorean  arrangements,  or 
by  opposition  to  the  excesses  of  the  Attic  democracy  ; 
the  ultimate  basis  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  whole 
character  of  his  system  prevents  the  philosopher  from 
seeing  in  the  sensual  and  individual  side  of  human 
existence  anything  more  than  a  hindrance  to  true 
morality,  and  from  regarding  it  as  the  means  of  realis- 
ing the  idea. 


|4»J  PLAT&S  RELIGION  AND  ART.  161 

§  49.  Plato's  Views  on  Religion  and  Art. 

Plato's  attitude  towards  the  religion  and  art  of  his 
nation  is  also  determined  by  moral  and  political  points 
of  view.  In  an  age  when  poets  were  theologians,  and 
their  works  took  the  place  of  revealed  documents — when 
the  theatre  bore  an  important  part  in  religious  worship 
— art  and  religion  stood  in  the  closest  interconnection. 
Plato's  own  religion  ia  that  philosophic  monotheism,  in 
which  the  Deity  coincides  with  the  idea  of  good,  the 
belief  in  providence  with  the  conviction  that  the 
world  is  the  work  of  reason  and  the  copy  of  the  idea, 
while  divine  worship  is  one  with  virtue  and  knowledge. 
His  more  popular  utterances  about  God  or  the  gods 
are  conceived  in  the  same  sense.  In  regard  to  his 
belief  in  providence  more  especially  and  in  his  theory 
of  divine  justice,  they  pass  the  more  easily  beyond  the 
strict  consistency  of  his  system,  because  he  never 
critically  compared  the  form  of  that  belief  in  concep- 
tion and  in  presentation,  and,  above  all,  had  never 
raised  the  question  of  the  personality  of  God.  Besides 
the  deity  in  the  absolute  sense  we  find  the  ideas 
denoted  as  eternal  gods,  the  Cosmos  and  the  stars 
as  visible  gods,  while  the  philosopher  does  not  conceal 
the  fact  that  he  regards  the  gods  of  mythology  as 
creatures  of  imagination  ('  Tim.'  40  D),  and  expresses 
himself  very  severely  on  the  numerous  immoralities  of 
mythology,  which  are  quite  unworthy  of  divine  beings 
(*  Rep.'  377  E,  &c.).  Nevertheless,  he  wishes  to  retain 
the  Hellenic  religion  as  that  of  his  State,  and  Hellenic 
myths  as  the  first  foundation  of  instruction,  though 


1«3  PLATO.  [§ « 

these  are  to  be  purified  from  any  harmful  admixture. 
What  he  requires  is  not  the  expulsion  but  the  reform 
of  the  national  religion. 

Like  religion,  art  is  examined  by  Plato  primarily 
with  regard  to  its  ethical  effect.  Precisely  because  he 
is  himself  a  philosophic  artist,  he  cannot  properly  esti- 
mate pure  art,  which  subserves  no  other  object.  In 
the  Socratic  manner  the  conception  of  the  beautiful  is 
referred  to  the  conception  of  the  good  without  any 
more  subtle  analysis  of  its  peculiar  nature.  He  regards 
art  as  an  imitation  (/u/^o-w),  not  of  the  essence  of 
things,  but  of  their  appearance  to  the  senses  ;  and  his 
objection  to  it  is  that,  though  it  arises  from  a  dim 
enthusiasm  (^avia\  it  claims  our  sympathies  equally 
for  what  is  false  or  true,  bad  or  good ;  in  many  of  its 
productions,  as,  for  instance,  in  comedy,  it  flatters  the 
lowest  inclinations,  and  by  its  varied  play  endangers 
simplicity  and  directness  of  character.  In  order  to 
attain  to  a  higher  position,  art  must  enter  into  the 
service  of  philosophy,  and  be  treated  as  a  means  of 
moral  culture ;  it  must  seek  its  highest  mission  in 
emphasising  the  goodness  of  virtue  and  the  worthless- 
ness  of  vice.  By  this  canon  the  public  guidance  and 
supervision  is  to  be  directed,  to  which  Plato  will  sub- 
ject art,  especially  poetry  and  music,  down  to  the 
minutest  details,  in  his  two  great  political  works  ;  and 
this  he  himself  applies  when  he  banishes  from  his 
State  not  only  all  immoral  and  unworthy  narratives 
about  gods  and  heroes,  but  also  all  extravagant  and 
effeminate  music,  and  the  whole  body  of  imitative 
poetry,  including  Homer.  In  the  same  manner,  Plato 


§  4»]  PLATO'S  KELIGION  AND  ART.  168 

requires  that  rhetoric,  the  ordinary  practice  of  which 
is  most  emphatically  condemned,  shall  be  reformed 
and  made  a  help  to  philosophy  (cf.  p.  138). 

{  60.     The  later  Form  of  the  Platonic  Doctrine. 

The  <  Laws: 

The  system  which  is  set  before  us  in  the  Platonic 
writings  down  to  the  *  Timaeus '  and  *  Critias '  underwent 
considerable  changes  in  the  later  part  of  Plato's  life, 
perhaps  after  his  return  from  his  last  Sicilian  journey. 
According  to  Aristotle,  Plato,  when  he  heard  him, 
confined  the  circle  of  ideas  to  the  various  kinds  of 
natural  objects.  The  ideas  he  denoted  as  numbers 
(p.  143),  but  distinguished  these  ideal  numbers  from 
the  mathematical  by  the  fact  that  the  former  do  not 
consist  of  homogeneous  unities,  and  therefore  cannot 
be  reckoned.  From  the  ideal  numbers  proceed  the 
ideal  magnitudes,  from  the  mathematical  the  mathe- 
matical magnitudes,  mathematics  occupying  a  place 
intermediate  between  the  ideas  and  things  in  the 
world  of  sense  (p.  149).  Moreover,  he  did  not  now 
content  himself  with  finding  the  ultimate  basis  of 
phenomena  in  ideas,  but  inquired  into  the  constituent 
elements  of  the  ideas  (O-TOI^SIO).  These  he  found  in 
the  One,  which  he  placed  on  the  same  level  as  the  good, 
and  the  Unlimited,  which  he  called  the  great  and  small 
(fieya  ical  jui/cpov),  because  it  is  not  limited  upwards 
or  downwards,  and  plurality  or  *  undefined  duality,'  in 
as  much  as  numbers  arise  from  it.  But  in  what  rela- 
tion the  unlimited  element  stood  to  that  which  is  the 


184  PLATO.  [§50 

basis  of  the  corporeal  world  he  does  not  seem  to  have 
inquired,  and  thus  arose  the  appearance  of  its  complete 
uniformity  which  Aristotle  assumes.1  Like  the  Pytha- 
goreans, to  whom  he  approaches  in  these  doctrines, 
he  distinguished  the  JEther  as  a  fifth  body  from  the 
four  elements. 

In  the  years  to  which  this  form  of  his  doctrine  be- 
longs, Plato  made  the  attempt  in  his  *  Laws  '(cf.  p.  131) 
to  show  how  an  essential  improvement  of  political 
conditions  could  be  brought  about  even  under  existing 
circumstances  and  without  the  hypotheses  of  the 
philosophical  State,  which  he  now  thought  it  impossible 
to  carry  out.  The  dominion  of  philosophy,  which  in 
the  *  Republic  '  is  the  only  means  of  assisting  humanity, 
is  now  abandoned ;  in  the  place  of  the  philosophical 
rulers,  we  have  a  board  of  the  Wisest  without  definite 
magisterial  duties ;  and  in  the  place  of  dialectic  or 
scientific  knowledge  of  laws  we  have  mathematics  and 
religion.  This  religion,  it  is  true,  is  in  harmony  with 
Plato's  principles,  but  it  does  not  in  any  respect  go 
beyond  that  improved  and  purified  natural  religion 
which  in  the '  Republic'  is  merely  assigned  to  the  masses 
as  a  compensation  for  dialectic.  Nor  can  the  conduct  of 
the  individual  soul  be  handed  over  to  wisdom  in  the 
higher  sense.  Its  place  is  taken  by  practical  insight 
(<j>p6vr](Tis),  which  is  hardly  distinguished  from  So- 
phrosyne,  while  bravery  is  remarkably  depreciated  in 
comparison  with  both.  Finally,  in  regard  to  the 

1  The  chief  passagea  in  Ari-  the  older  Academy,  617  ff.  Platan. 

Btotle  are  Mrtaph.   i.   6,   9,  xiii.  Studien,  217  ff.,  and   Susemih], 

6,  on  which  compare  Alexander's  Genet.  Entnickl.  d.  Plat.  Phii 

commentary.  Farther,  Plato  and  509  ff.,  532  ff. 


§60]  THE  'LAWS.'  165 

arrangements  of  the  State,  Plato  in  his  later  work  does 
not  abolish  private  property,  but  contents  himself  with 
limiting  it  by  law,  and  retaining  a  fixed  number  of  plots 
of  land  (5040);  he  does  not  now  destroy  the  family, 
but  carefully  supervises  marriages  and  domestic  life. 
The  principle  of  one  public  education  for  boys  and  girls 
alike  is  still  maintained,  and  intercourse  with  foreign 
countries  is  carefully  controlled  and  limited.  Trade, 
business,  and  agriculture  are  the  exclusive  care  of  the 
metoeci  and  slaves,  so  that  of  the  three  orders  of  the 
republic  only  the  second  remains.  As  to  the  constitu- 
tion of  the  State,  an  equal  combination  of  monarchical, 
or  more  properly  oligarchical,  and  democratic  elements 
is  made  the  basis,  while  the  organic  regulations  of  the 
constitution,  no  less  than  the  civic  and  penal  laws,  are 
carried  out  wisely  and  well  with  a  solicitude  which 
extends  to  the  smallest  details.  Every  law  is  preceded 
by  an  explanatory  preamble,  for  men  are  not  required 
to  act  out  of  blind  obedience,  but  from  their  own  con- 
viction. 

§  51.     The  Old  Academy. 

The  scientific  society  which  Plato  founded  and 
conducted  was  carried  on,  after  his  death,  in  his  Academy 
under  special  leaders,  and  it  gave  to  succeeding  ages 
the  pattern  for  the  organisation  of  scientific  instruction. 
His  first  successor  was  Speusippus,  the  son  of  his  sister, 
who  was  followed  in  339  B.C.  by  his  fellow-pupil  Xeno- 
crates  of  Chalcedon.  Among  the  other  immediate 
pupils  of  Plato,  the  best  known,  excluding  Aristotle,  are 
Heraclides  of  Pontus,  Philippus  of  Opus,  Hestiaeug  of 


166  THE  OLD  ACADEMY.  [|fii 

Perinthus,  Menedemus  the  Pyrrhaean.  So  far  as  WP 
are  acquainted  with  their  views,  all  these  men, adhering 
to  Pythagorean! sm,  followed  the  direction  which  Plato's 
philosophy  had  taken  in  his  latest  period.  Speusippus 
appears  not  only  to  have  ascribed  a  greater  value  to 
knowledge  gained  by  experience  than  Plato  (sTriarr)- 
HOVIKT)  atffBrjcris),  but  he  entirely  gave  up  in  its 
Platonic  form  the  doctrine  in  which  Plato  had  come 
forward  in  the  most  diametrical  opposition  to  the 
ordinary  modes  of  presentation,  by  putting  mathe- 
matical numbers  in  the  place  of  ideas.  These  numbers 
he  regards  as  separate  from  things ;  and  a  fragment  of 
his  on  the  *  Decas '  has  quite  a  Pythagorean  ring.  Like 
Pythagoras,  he  denoted  the  unit  and  plurality  as  the 
most  general  sources  of  things ;  but  he  distinguished  the 
unit  from  the  creative  reason,  which  he  conceived  as 
the  world-soul,  and  appears  to  have  combined  with  the 
Pythagorean  central  tire,  and  from  the  Good,  which  was 
a  result  arising  from  the  arrangement  of  the  world.  In 
the  first  instance  he  derived  only  the  numbers  from 
unity  and  plurality ;  while  for  superficial  magnitudes 
and  for  the  soul  he  assumed  analogous  principles ;  but 
it  is  at  the  same  time  recorded  (Diog.  iv.  2)  that  he 
combined  the  mathematical  sciences  closely  together. 
With  the  Pythagoreans  (and  Plato)  he  added  ^Ether  to 
the  four  elements,  and,  perhaps  for  the  sake  of  the 
migration  of  souls,  he  allowed  the  lower  parts  of  the 
soul  to  continue  beyond  death.  In  his  *  Ethics '  he 
followed  the  Platonic  model,  merely  going  beyond  it 
in  directly  maintaining  that  pleasure  was  an  evil. 

Xenocrates  did  not  go  quite  so  far  in  his  approxi- 


§  61]  XENOCRATE8.  167 

mation  to  Pythagoreanism.  He  was  a  man  of  pure 
and  noble  character,  but  of  melancholy  humour,  a 
copious  author,  and,  without  doubt,  the  chief  repre- 
sentative of  the  Academic  school,  which  he  conducted 
till  313-4  B.C.  He  expressly  distinguished  the  three 
chief  parts  of  the  philosophic  system  —  dialectic, 
physics,  and  ethics — and  was  apparently  the  first  to 
do  so.  In  Pythagorean  fashion  he  denoted  as  original 
sources  the  unit,  or  the  odd,  and  the  indefinite  duality, 
or  even,  or,  as  he  also  expressed  it,  the  father  and  the 
mother  of  the  gods,  inasmuch  as  he  assimilated  the  unit 
to  Nous  or  Zeus.  Their  first  offspring  were  the  ideas, 
which  must  be  also  mathematical  numbers.  In  order 
to  derive  magnitudes  from  numbers,  he  assumes  the 
most  minute  and  indivisible  lines.  By  the  addition  of 
the  Same  and  the  Other  to  number  arises  the  (world) 
soul,  which  Xenocrates  (on  the  ground  of  the  'Timseus') 
defined  as  a  number  moving  itself ;  but  this  origin  of 
the  soul  he  did  not  conceive  as  taking  place  in  time, 
in  which  he  was  apparently  influenced  by  Aristotle. 
The  forces  operating  in  the  different  parts  of  the 
world,  in  the  sky,  the  elements,  &c.,  he  seems  to  have 
denoted  as  gods ;  by  the  side  of  them  he  assumed,  with 
the  national  religion  and  the  Pythagoreans,  the  exist- 
ence of  good  and  evil  spirits.  The  elements,  to  which 
he  also  added  Either,  he  assumed  to  have  arisen  out  of 
the  smallest  corpuscles.  Like  Speusippus,  he  allows 
the  irrational  parts  of  the  human  soul,  and  perhaps 
the  souls  of  animals  also,  to  survive  death.  He  dis- 
couraged a  meat  diet  because  by  that  means  the  brute 
nature  of  animals  might  obtain  an  influence  over  us. 


168  THE  OLD  ACADEMY  [|6l 

His  ethical  views  were  set  forth  in  numerous  treatises, 
and  what  we  know  of  them  shows  that  he  remained 
true  to  the  Platonic  ethics.  He  placed  happiness  in 
'  the  possession  of  virtue  and  of  the  means  which  sub- 
serve it.'  He  distinguished  more  precisely  than  Plato 
between  scientific  and  practical  insight,  and,  like 
Aristotle,  gives  the  name  of  wisdom  to  the  first  only. 

If  we  may  judge  from  the  Pseudo-Platonic  '  Epi- 
nomis,'  which  was  most  probably  his  work,  Philippus 
was  rather  a  mathematician  than  a  philosopher.  ID 
his  view  mathematics  and  astronomy  secure  us  the 
highest  knowledge  :  wisdom  consists  in  acquaintance 
with  them,  and  on  them,  combined  with  correct 
presentations  about  the  heavenly  deities,  all  piety 
depends.  He  follows  Plato  in  rejecting  the  gods  of 
mythology ;  and  on  this  account  spirits  are  of  the  more 
importance  in  his  eyes  as  the  intermediaries  in  all 
intercourse  with  the  gods.  He  divides  them  into 
three  classes.  On  the  other  hand,  he  has  but  a  poor 
opinion  of  human  life  and  earthly  things ;  and  appa- 
rently he  first  interpolated  into  the  *  Laws  '  (x.  896  E  ff.) 
the  bad  world-soul  (988  D  f.).  It  is  by  mathematics 
and  astronomy,  in  addition  to  virtue,  that  we  are  raised 
above  the  misery  of  earthly  existence  and  assured  of  a 
future  return  to  heaven.  The  famous  Eudoxus  of 
Cnidus,  who  was  also  a  mathematician,  deviated  far 
more  than  Philippus  from  the  doctrine  of  Plato,  whom 
he,  like  Archytas,  had  attended.  He  not  only  allowed 
the  ideas  to  be  mingled  as  matter  in  things,  but  be 
declared  pleasure  to  be  the  highest  good.  Herat  leides 
of  Poutus,  who  opened  a  school  of  his  own  in 


|M]  EUDOXUS,  POLE  MO,  ETC.  1«9 

city  about  '6M  B.C.,  borrowed  from  the  Pythagorean 
Ecphantus  not  only  the  assumption  of  small  original 
corpuscles  (avappoi  oyrcoi)  out  of  which  the  divine 
intellect  built  the  world,  but  also  the  doctrine  of  the 
daily  revolution  of  the  earth.  The  soul  he  regarded 
as  composed  of  aethereal  matter.  We  are  also  reminded 
of  the  Pythagoreans  in  the  credulity  with  which  this 
learned  but  uncritical  writer  accepted  a  belief  in  miracles 
and  soothsaying.  Of  Hestiaeus  we  know  that  he  busied 
himself  with  those  metaphysical  and  mathematical 
speculations,  of  which  Aristotle  preserves  a  few,  in 
addition  to  those  quoted,  without  any  mention  of 
names. 

The  successor  of  Xenocrates,  Polemo  the  Athenian 
(died  270  B.C.)  was  held  in  repute  as  a  moral  philo- 
sopher. His  ethical  principles,  in  which  he  coincided 
with  Xenocrates,  were  comprehended  in  the  single 
requirement  of  a  life  according  to  nature.  His  most 
distinguished  pupil  was  Grantor  of  Soli  in  Cilicia, 
who  also  belonged  to  Xenocrates,  and  died  before 
Polemo.  He  was  the  first  commentator  on  the 
'  Timseus,'  the  psychogony  in  which  he  did  not,  like 
Xenocrates,  regard  as  conceived  in  time,  and  also  the 
author  of  famous  ethical  writings  entirely  in  harmony 
with  the  doctrines  of  the  Old  Academy.  After  Polemo, 
Orates  of  Athens  became  the  leader  of  the  Academic 
school,  and  Arcesilaus  (§  78),  the  successor  of  Crates, 
gave  an  essentially  altered  character  to  its  doctrines. 


170  ARISTOTLE.  .    [§« 

IV.    ARISTOTLE  AND  THE  PERIPATETIC  SCHOOL. 
§  52.  Aristotle's  Life. 

Aristotle  was  born  at  Stagira,  01.  90,  1  (384  B.C.). 
His  father  Nicomachus  was  physician  to  Amyntas,  King 
of  Macedonia,  but  after  the  death  of  his  parent  3 
Proxenus  of  Atarneus  attended  to  his  education.  In 
his  eighteenth  year,  366-7  B.C.,  he  came  to  Athens 
and  entered  the  circle  of  the  pupils  of  Plato,  where  he 
continued  till  Plato's  death.  This  fact,  combined  with 
other  ascertained  data,  is  a  sufficient  contradiction  of 
the  assertion  -that  Aristotle's  disregard  for  his  teacher 
and  his  ingratitude  caused  a  difference  between  them 
for  a  long  time  before  Plato's  death.  On  the  contrary, 
we  may  assume  that  Aristotle,  during  his  twenty  years 
of  study  at  Athens,  not  only  studied  the  pre-Platonic 
philosophy,  but  also  laid  the  foundation  for  other  his- 
torical knowledge.  If  in  a  series  of  writings  he  adhered 
to  Plato  in  form  and  contents,  he  nevertheless  ex- 
pressed in  them  his  objections  to  the  doctrines  of  ideas 
and  his  conviction  of  the  eternity  of  the  world.  After 
Plato's  death  he  repaired  with  Xenocrates  to  Atarneus 
in  Mysia,  to  his  fellow-pupil  Hermias,  the  prince  of 
that  state,  whose  niece,  or  sister,  Pythias,  he  subse- 
quently married.  Three  years  later,  after  the  fall  of 
Hermias,  he  went  on  to  Mitylene.  Thence  he  appears 
to  have  returned  to  Athens,  where  he  opened  a  school 
of  rhetoric,  in  opposition  to  Isocrates.  In  342  he 
obeyed  a  summons  to  the  Macedonian  court  to  under- 
take the  education  of  Alexander,  who  at  that  time  was 


§52]  ARISTOTLE'S  LIFS.  171 

on  the  threshold  of  his  youth  (born  in  356  B.C.).  Here 
he  remained  till  Alexander  set  out  on  his  Asiatic  cam- 
paigr  The  beneficial  influence  of  the  philosopher  on 
his  brilliant  pupil,  and  the  respect  of  the  pupil  for  his 
master,  are  celebrated  by  Plutarch,  *  Alexander,'  c.  8. 
Aristotle  had  to  thank  the  favour  of  Philip  or  Alex- 
ander for  the  restoration  of  his  paternal  city,  which 
Philip  had  destroyed.  In  the  year  334  or  335  at  the 
earliest,  Aristotle  returned  to  Athens  and  opened  a 
school  in  the  Lyceum  which  received  the  name  of  the 
Peripatetic,  not  from  the  place,  but  from  Aristotle's 
habit  of  walking  while  giving  instruction.  His  teach- 
ing extended  to  rhetoric  as  well  as  philosophy ;  besides 
continuous  lectures,  dialogue  was  doubtless  introduced, 
and  the  scientific  society,  like  that  of  Plato,  was  at  the 
same  time  a  circle  of  friends  with  fixed  common  meals. 
With  ample  means  of  his  own,  and  secure  of  royal 
assistance  if  he  required  it  (apart  from  any  later 
exaggerations),  Aristotle  was  in  a  position  to  obtain  all 
the  assistance  in  his  researches  which  his  age  could 
offer.  Above  all,  he  was  the  first  to  make  a  large 
collection  of  books.  His  writings  are  evidence  of  the 
extent  to  which  he  availed  himself  of  these  means. 
After  the  violent  death  of  his  nephew  Callisthenes 
Aristotle's  relations  to  Alexander  were  less  harmonious ; 
but  it  is  sheer  calumny  to  ascribe  to  him  a  part  in  the 
supposed  poisoning  of  Alexander,  which  is  indeed  a 
party  falsehood.  The  unexpected  death  of  the  king 
brought  him  into  the  most  immediate  danger,  for  on  the 
outbreak  of  the  Lamian  war  he  was  attacked  on  a  false 
charge  of  sacrilege,  owing  to  political  hatred,  and  fled 


172  ARISTOTLE.  t§  M 

to  Chalcis  in  Euboea,  where  he  fell  sick  and  died  in  the 
summer  of  322  B.C.,  a  few  months  before  Demosthenes. 
His  character,  which  from  a  very  early  period  was 
grievously  traduced  by  his  political  and  scientific  op- 
ponents, appears  in  his  writings  as  thoroughly  noble, 
and  there  are  no  certain  facts  which  give  us  any 
reason  to  doubt  this  impression.  His  scientific  emi- 
nence is  beyond  a  doubt ;  and  in  the  combination  of 
an  extraordinarily  wide  knowledge  with  independent 
judgment,  acute  penetration,  comprehensive  specula- 
tion, and  methodical  inquiry,  he  stands  alone,  or  if 
not  alone,  Leibnitz  only  can  be  compared  with  him  in 
this  respect. 

$  53.  Aristotle's  Writings. 

Under  the  name  of  Aristotle  a  collection  of  writings 
has  come  down  to  us,  which  in  all  essentials  un- 
doubtedly goes  back  to  the  edition  of  the  Aristotelian 
writings  published  by  Andronicus  about  50-60  B.C. 
(Cf.  §  82.)  There  is  no  doubt  that  the  largest  and 
most  important  part  of  these  writings  is  genuine, 
though  some  of  them  are  apparently  not  free  from  later 
additions  and  alterations.  But  besides  the  works  which 
have  survived  we  are  acquainted  with  a  large  number 
of  lost  writings — of  which,  it  is  true,  the  greater  part 
seem  to  be  spurious — partly  from  the  quotations  of 
later  writers,  and  partly  from  two  lists  which  are  still 
in  existence.  The  older  of  these  lists,1  which  seems  to 
have  been  derived  from  the  Alexandrian  Hermippus 

1  In  Diog.  v.  21  ff.  and  with  nagii,  a  biography  of  Aristotle, 
several  omissions  and  additions  apparently  the  work  of  Hesy- 
in  the  so-called  Anvnymut  Me-  chius  (about  500  A.D.) 


1 53]  AH1STOTL&S    WRITINGS.  173 

(about  200  B.C.),  puts  the  total  of  the  Aristotelian 
writings  at  nearly  400  books  ;  but  as  important  works 
in  our  collection  are  not  found  in  the  list,  it  seems 
only  to  contain  the  works  of  Aristotle  which  were  in 
the  Alexandrian  Library  at  the  time  of  its  compilation. 
The  later  list,  which  has  come  down  to  us  in  an  in- 
complete state  from  Arabian  writers,  was  compiled  by 
Ptolemseus,  apparently  a  Peripatetic  of  the  first  or 
second  century  A.D.  It  mentions  nearly  all  the  works 
in  our  collection,  and  (with  Andronicus)  reckons  the 
books  of  the  entire  writings  at  1,000. 

Our  collection  contains  the  following  works  : 

(1)  Logical  Treatises  (first  collected  together  in  By- 
zantine times  under  the  title  '  Organon ')  :  *  The  Cate- 
gories,' apparently  mutilated  from  c.  9,  11  b.  7,  and 
enlarged  by  the  addition  of  the  so-called  Post-predica- 
ments, c.  10-15,  from  a  later  hand;  IT.  sp^vsias  (or 
on  propositions),  probably  the  work  of  a  Peripatetic  of 
the  third  century  B.C. ;  the  two  *  Analytics  '  (avaXuTuch, 
trpoTspa  and  varspa)^  of  which  the  first  deals  with  con- 
clusions, the  second  with  proof ;  the  *  Topica,'  which 
treats  of  dialectic,  i.e.  the  art  of  the  proof  of  probability; 
the  last  (ninth)  book  is  generally  quoted  as  a  sepa- 
rate treatise,  TT.  a-o^cariKwv  e\ey%a)v. 

(2)  Treatises    on    Natural    History:    'Physics' 
((frvo-iKr)  a.icp6a<rts\  in  eight  books,  of  which,  however, 
the  seventh  book,  though  derived  from  an  Aristotelian 
sketch,  appears  to  be  a  later  interpolation ;  *  De  Caelo,' 
four  books;   'About  Origin  and   Decay,'  two  books; 
'  Meteorology,'  four   books ;   the   spurious   book  irspl 
KOO-U.OV  (see  §  82).     There  are  also  the  investigations 


174  ARISTOTLE.  [§  6£ 

into  the  nature  of  living  creatures,  the  three  books  on 
the  soul,  and  the  smaller  treatises  connected  with  them, 
from  which  we  must  separate  the  work  irspl  irvsv^aros 
as  post-Aristotelian;  the  comprehensive  zoological 
treatises ;  the  description  of  animals  (TT.  rci  £<ua 
la-Topiai)  in  ten  books,  or  nine,  if  we  deduct  the  spurious 
tenth  book ;  and  the  three  systematic  works :  *  On  the 
Parts  of  Animals,'  four  books  ;  *  On  the  Progression  of 
Animals;*  *0n  the  Origin  of  Animals'  (five  books,  of 
which,  however,  the  fifth  book  seems  to  be  a-  separate 
work),  together  with  the  spurious  treatise  irspl  %<awv 
Kivrja-sws.  Whether  Aristotle  carried  out  a  work  which 
he  contemplated  on  plants  is  not  quite  certain ;  in  any 
case  the  treatise  TT.  QVTWV,  which  we  have,  is  spurious. 
So  also  are  the  works  TT.  xpatfAdrav,  TT.  dxovo-Twv, 
V.  Qavfiaa-iwv  atcovcrfidra)Vj  the  ^va-toyvajfiifcd,  the 
/jLijXaviKa,  and  the  treatise  on  indivisible  lines  (pro- 
bably the  work  of  Theophrastus).  Aristotle  also  wrote 
'  Problems,'  but  in  our  thirty-seven  books  of  problems 
the  remains  of  the  Aristotelian  are  buried  beneath  a 
mass  of  later  additions. 

(3)  The  metaphysical  writings  of  the  philosopher 
which  we  possess  are  limited  to  the  *  Metaphysics '  (rA 
/jLsra  ra  ^ucrt/ca),1  which,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  is  a  col- 
lection formed  immediately  after  Aristotle's  death  of  all 
that  was  found  in  his  remains  referring  to  the  *  first 
philosophy '  (cf.  §  54) ;  its  present  name  is  due  to  its 
position  in  the  collection  of  Andronicus.  The  bulk  of 
it  (b.  i.  iii.  [B.j,  iv.  vi. — ix.  x.)  is  formed  by  Ari- 

1  Best    editions    and   commentaries    bj    Bonits     (1848)    and 
Scbwegler  (1847  f.) 


§88]  ARISTOTLE'S  WRITINGS.  176 

stotle's  incomplete  work  on  the  'First  Philosophy,' 
in  which  the  originally  independent  treatise  which 
forms  book  v.  has  been  incorporated.  Book  xi.  1 — 8, 
1065  a.  26,  seems  to  be  an  older  sketch  which  was 
changed  afterwards  into  books  iii.  iv.  vi.  Books  xiii. 
xiv  are  discussions  which  were  at  first  intended  for  one 
work,  but  subsequently  rejected  and  in  part  embodied 
in  books  i.  6,  9.  Book  xii.  is  a  separate  treatise 
written  before  the  main  work,  perhaps  as  a  basis  for 
lectures.  Books  ii.  (a)  and  xi.  (from  c.  8,  1065  a.  26)  are 
confessedly  spurious.  The  Fame  is  the  case  with  the 
treatises  on  the  Eleatic  philosophy  mentioned  on  p.  58. 
(4)  Ethics  are  treated  by  Aristotle  in  the  ten 
books  of  the  so-called  '  Nicomachean  Ethics,'  in  books 
v.-vii.  of  which  additions  greater  or  smaller  seem  to 
proceed  from  the  Eudemian ;  and  Politics  in  the  eight 
books  of  the  *  Politics.'  In  the  last-mentioned  work 
not  only  do  books  vii.  and  viii.  find  their  proper  place 
between  books  iii.  and  iv.,  but  much  that  is  needed  to 
complete  the  plan  is  wanting.  Like  the  '  Metaphysics,' 
it  seems  to  have  been  left  a  fragment  owing  to  the  death 
of  the  author.  The  *  Eudemian  Ethics '  are  a  revision 
of  the  '  Aristotelian  Ethics '  by  Eudemus,  but  of  this 
only  books  i.-iii.  and  vi.  are  preserved ;  the  « Magna 
Moralia  are  a  sketch  compiled  from  both,  but  more 
especially  from  the  Eudemian.  The  small  treatise 
on  *  Virtues  and  Vices '  belongs  to  the  period  of  later 
eclecticism.  The  first  book  of  the  '  (Economics,*  which 
Philodemus  (<De  Vitiis,'  col.  7,  27)  ascribes  to  Theo- 
phrastus,  is  certainly  not  Aristotelian,  and  the  second 
book  is  much  later. 


178  ARISTOTLE.  [§  M 

(5)  On  Rhetoric  we  have  the  three  books  of  the 
1  Rhetoric,'  of  which,  however,  the  third  does  not  seem  to 
be  the  work  of  A.  istotle ;  on  Poetry  we  have  the  Poetics, 
which  as  it  now  •  tands  is  only  a  part  of  an  Aristotelian 
work  in  two  books.  The  *  Rhetoric  to  Alexander '  is  an 
interpolation. 

All  these  treatises,  so  far  as  they  are  genuine,  and 
unless  intended  by  thdir  author  for  his  own  private  use, 
as  was  perhaps  the  case  with  *  Metaphysics '  xii.,  appear 
to  have  been  didactic  works  which  Aristotle  wrote 
down  for  his  pupils  and  imparted  to  them  only.  He 
seems  to  have  had  no  thought  of  wider  publication, 
and  perhaps  at  first  did  not  permit  it.  This  is  the 
conclusion  we  draw  from  the  quotation  of  '  published 
works'  (see  infra),  and  more  especially  from  the 
address  to  his  pupils  at  the  end  of  the  '  Topica,'  and 
from  the  numerous  facts  which  show  that  the  last 
hand  of  the  author  was  wanting.  Moreover,  in  some 
treatises  which  are  demonstrably  earlier  in  date,  we 
find  reference  to  later  writings,  which  appear  to  have 
been  added  long  after  they  were  composed,  but  before 
they  were  published.  Of  the  lost  works  the  'Avaro/Mai, 
so  often  quoted  by  Aristotle  himself,  and  the  aarpo- 
\oyiKa  OsaprtfjLara  (« Meteor.'  i.  3,  8.  339  b.  7.  345  b. 
1.  <De  Cselo,'  ii.  10,  291  a.  29),  besides  the  work 
on  plants,  belonged  to  these  didactic  treatises ;  of  the 
numerous  other  writings  of  the  class,  which  are  still 
mentioned,  perhaps  no  single  one  was  genuine. 

From  the  didactic  writings  of  the  Aristotelian 
school  we  must  separate  those  which  Aristotle  himself 
calli  'published'  works  ('Poetics,'  15,  1454  b.  17, 


§53]  ARISTOTLE'S   WRITINGS.  177 


),  and  which  apparently  he  means  by  the 
iv  KOIVW  yijvofjisvoi  ('  De  An.'  i.  4,  init.\  and 
possibly  by  the  ijKv/c\ia  faXovo^ripaTa  (*  De  Caelo,'  ii. 
9,  279  a.  30  ;  '  Eth.'  i.  3,  1096  a.  2  ).»  Of  these,  however, 
none  is  expressly  quoted  in  the  books  in  existence, 
which  are  proved  to  be  a  connected  whole  by  the 
numerous  cross-references  in  them.  All  the  writings 
of  this  class  appear  to  have  been  composed  before 
Aristotle's  last  residence  in  Athens;  a  part  of  them 
were  in  the  form  of  dialogue,  and  it  can  only  be  in 
reference  to  them  that  Aristotle  is  commended  by 
Cicero  and  others  for  the  copiousness  and  charm  of  his 
exposition,  the  'golden  stream  of  his  speech.'  Even 
among  these  there  was  at  an  early  time  much  that  was 
spurious.2  Among  the  dialogues  was  the  '  Eudemus,' 
which  in  form  and  contents  was  an  imitation  of  Plato's 
*  Phaedo,'  and  was  apparently  composed  in  352  B.C.  ;  the 
three  books  on  Philosophy,  in  which  the  criticism  of 
the  doctrine  of  ideas  begins  ;  the  four  books  on  justice  ; 
the  three  books  irspl  TTOITJTWV.  The  remaining  writings 
of  the  earlier  period  contained  the  '  Protrepticus,'  the 
treatises  on  the  Ideas  and  the  Good,  and  accounts  of 
the  contents  of  the  Platonic  lectures,  the  *  History  of 
Rhetoric  '  (re^i/wy  <Tvi>ayo)yij)t  the  *  Rhetoric,'  dedicated 
to  Theodectes,  which,  like  the  treatise  Trspl  /3a<Ti\eias, 

1  It    is,    however,    doubtful  view.  Diels  attacks  it  :  Sitzvngs- 

whether  the  old  commentators  are  ber  d.  Berl.  Akad.  1883;  Nr.  19. 
right  in  referring,   after  Andro-          *  The  remains  have  been  col- 

nicus,    the    l(<urcpiKol    \6yoi,    so  lected  by  Rose  in  his  Arixtatelet 

often  mentioned  by  Aristotle  and  Pteudepigraphvs,  and  the  Berlin 

Eudemus,  to  a  particular  class  of  edition  of  Aristotle,  p.  1474  ft*., 

Aristotelian  writings.    Bernays,  by  Heitz,  ToL  iy.  b.  of  Didot's  edi- 

\vilh  moat  scholars,  defends  this  tion, 


178  ARISTOTLE.  [§  53 

dedicated  to  Alexander,  must  have  been  composed  in 
Macedonia ;  and  the  St8a<r/ca\«u,  besides  which  many 
works  relating  to  poets  and  arts  are  mentioned — 
whether  with  good  reason  is  very  doubtful.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  excerpts  from  some  Platonic  works,  and 
the  writings  on  the  Pythagoreans  and  other  philosophers, 
so  far  as  they  are  genuine,  are  only  sketches  for  private 
use,  and  the  same  is  probably  the  case  (as  Heitz 
assumes)  with  the  '  Polities,'  a  collection  of  accounts  of 
158  Hellenic  and  barbarian  cities  from  which  numerous 
statements  are  preserved,  the  vo^ifj-a  fiapftapiKd  and 
8iKai(a/jiaTa  rwv  TTO^SWV. 

How  many  of  the  Letters,  which  had  been  collected 
in  eight  books  by  Artemon  even  before  Andronicus, 
are  genuine,  cannot  be  ascertained ;  in  what  we  know 
of  the  collection,  there  is  much  that  is  obviously 
interpolated,  besides  a  good  deal  that  may  be  genuine. 
We  have  no  reason  to  doubt  the  genuineness  of  some 
small  poems  and  fragments. 

As  all  or  nearly  all  the  didactic  writings  of  Aristotle 
appear  to  have  been  composed  in  the  last  twelve  years 
before  his  death,  and  present  his  system  in  the  ripest 
form  without  any  important  variation  in  contents  or 
terminology,  the  question  of  the  order  of  composition 
becomes  of  little  practical  importance.  Yet  it  is  probable 
that  the  *  Categories,'  the  'Topica,'  and  the  '  Analytics  ' 
are  the  oldest  parts  of  our  collection ;  these  were  followed 
by  the '  Physics '  and  the  works  which  are  connected  with 
them.  Next  in  order  are  the  treatises  on  the  soul  and 
living  creatures  ;  then  the  '  Ethics.'  The  '  Politics  ' 
and  'Metaphysics '  (with  the  exception  of  the  older 


§53]  .UUSTOTLES    WRITINGS  179 

portions  incorporated  in  them)  were  then  commence^ 
but  never  completed,  while  the  'Poetics'  and  '.Rhe- 
toric,' though  begun  later,  were  finished  The  narra 
tive  given  in  Strabo  (xiii.  1.  54)  and  Plutarch 
'Sulla,'  26),  according  to  which  the  writings  of  Ari- 
stotle and  Theophrastus  were  carried  to  Neleus  at 
Scepsis  after  the  death  of  Theophrastus,  and  there 
hidden  in  a  cellar,  rediscovered  by  Apellicon  in  Sulla's 
time,  brought  by  Sulla  to  Rome,  and  republished 
by  Tyrannic  and  Andronicus,  may  be  correct  in  the 
facts.  But  if  it  is  presupposed  in  consequence  that 
the  Peripatetics  after  the  time  of  Theophrastus  were 
acquainted  with  but  few  and  those  for  the  most  part 
exoteric  works  of  their  founder,  the  Assumption  is  not 
only  improbable  in  itself,  but  contradicted  by  the  fact 
that  the  use  of  all  the  works  of  Aristotle  with  unimpor- 
tant exceptions  can  be  proved  for  the  period  between 
Theophrastus  and  Andronicus,  notwithstanding  the 
fragmentary  character  of  the  literary  tradition  of  this 
period. 

§  54.  The  Philosophy  of  Aristotle. 

Introductory. 

Aristotle  considered  himself  a  member  of  the  school 
of  Plato,  and  sharply  as  he  contested  the  doctrine  of 
its  founder  in  many  points,  more  especially  in  the 
central  point  of  the  doctrine  of  ideas,  yet  his  whole 
philosophy  is  far  more  deeply  and  completely  denned 
by  its  connection  with  Plato  than  by  its  opposition  to 
hkn.  It  is  true  that  he  limits  philosophy  more  ex- 
clusively than  Plato  to  the  region  of  science,  and  dis- 


180  ARISTOTLE.  [§  M 

tinguishes  it  more  distinctly  from  moral  activity,  while 
on  the  other  hand  he  assigns  a  greater  importance  for 
philosophy  to  empiric  knowledge.  Yet  he,  like  Plato, 
places  the  peculiar  mission  of  philosophy  in  the  know- 
ledge of  unchangeable  Being  and  the  ultimate  bases  of 
tilings,  the  general  and  necessary.  This  essence  of 
things,  the  true  and  original  real,  he  finds  with  Plato  in 
the  forms  (e'l§r)\  which  make  up  the  content  of  our  con- 
cepts. Hence  his  philosophy,  like  that  of  Socrates  and 
Plato,  is  a  science  of  concepts ;  the  individual  is  to  be 
referred  to  general  concepts,  and  explained  by  deriva- 
tion from  concepts.  Aristotle  has  brought  this  process 
to  the  highest  state  of  perfection,  both  in  the  direction 
of  dialectical  induction  and  in  that  of  logical  dem\  n- 
stration.  Excluding  all  the  poetical  and  mythical 
adornment,  which,  following  the  pattern  of  Plato,  he 
did  not  despise  in  the  writings  of  his  youth,  he  carried 
it  out  with  scientific  severity.  By  the  incisiveness  and 
brevity  of  his  mode  of  expression,  and  his  extraordinary 
skill  in  creating  a  philosophical  terminology,  he  knew 
how  to  gain  for  his  exposition  those  advantages  by 
which  it  is  as  far  in  advance  of  the  exposition  of  Plato, 
as  it  is  behind  Plato  in  artistic  finish,  at  any  rate,  in 
the  works  which  have  come  down  to  us.  But  as  the 
philosopher  did  not  think  of  the  forms  as  essences 
existing  independently  and  separate  from  things,  but 
only  as  the  inner  essence  of  individual  things,  he  com- 
bines with  the  philosophy  of  concepts  such  a  decided 
demand  for  the  most  comprehensive  empiric  knowledge, 
as  can  only  be  found  at  most  in  Democritus  among 
hia  predecessors.  He  is  not  only  a  scholar,  but  an 


|M]  AJtlSTOTLES  PHILOSOPHY.  Ibl 

observer  of  the  first  rank,  equally  eminent  for  his  mul- 
tifarious knowledge,  extending  more  especially  to  the 
earlier  philosophers,  for  his  comprehensive  knowledge 
of  nature,  and  his  penetrating  researches,  though  it  is 
obvious  that  we  must  not  expect  from  him  what  could 
only  be  obtained  by  the  scientific  aids  and  methods  of 
our  own  century. 

The  indications  which  Aristotle  gives  for  the  division 
of  the  philosophic  system  can  only  be  with  difficulty 
applied  to  the  contents  of  his  own  writings.  He  dis- 
tinguishes three  sciences — theoretic,  practical,  and 
productive.  Under  the  first  are  included  Physics, 
Mathematics,  and  the '  First  Philosophy '  ('Metaphysics,' 
cf.  p.  174),  which  is  also  called  Theology;  practical 
philosophy  is  divided  into  Ethics  and  Politics,  but  the 
whole  is  also  called  Politics.  For  our  purpose  it  is 
best  to  make  the  division  into  Logic,  Metaphysics, 
Physics,  and  Ethics,  the  chief  basis  of  our  exposition  of 
the  Aristotelian  system,  and  to  add  something  by  way 
of  supplement  to  these  main  divisions. 

§  55.  The  Aristotelian  Logic. 

Aristotle  has  created  Logic  as  a  special  science  on 
the  foundation  laid  by  Socrates  and  Plato.  He  calls 
it  Analytic,  i.e.  the  introduction  to  the  art  of  investiga- 
tion, and  treats  it  as  scientific  methodology.  Accord- 
ing to  his  view,  scientific  knowledge  in  the  narrower 
sense  (fTrtcrr^/i??)  consists  in  the  derivation  of  the  special 
from  the  general,  the  conditioned  from  its  causes.  But 
the  development  of  knowledge  in  time  takes  the  reverse 
path.  Though  the  soul  in  its  thinking  nature  possesses 


18JJ  ARISTOTLE.  ( §  »s 

the  possibility  of  all  knowledge,  and  to  that  extent  is 
dynamically  possessed  of  all  knowledge,  it  attains  to 
actual  knowledge  by  degrees  only.  What  is  the  better 
known  and  more  certain  in  itself  is  not  so  for  us  ('  Anal. 
Post.'  i.  2,  71  b.  33 ;  « Phys.'  i.  1,  184  a.  16);  we  must 
abstract  the  general  concepts  from  the  individual  ob- 
servations, and  rise  by  steps  from  perception  by  means 
of  memory  to  experience,  and  from  experience  to  know- 
ledge ('  Anal.  Post.'  ii.  19  ;  '  Metaph.'  i.  1,  &c.),  and  it  is 
owing  to  this  importance  of  experience  for  knowledge 
what  Aristotle  expressly  undertakes  the  defence  of  the 
truth  of  sensuous  perception.  He  is  of  opinion  that 
the  senses  as  such  never  deceive  us  ;  all  error  springs 
out  of  the  false  reference  and  combination  of  their 
evidence.  Hence  the  Aristotelian  Logic  (in  the '  Second 
Analytics ')  deals  with  induction  as  well  as  proof ;  but 
both  are  preceded  (in  the '  First  Analytics  ')  by  the  doc- 
trine of  the  syllogism,  which  is  the  form  common  to 
both.  It  is  only  in  connection  with  the  syllogism  that 
Aristotle  deals  with  concepts  and  judgments. 

A  syllogism  is  '  a  speech,  in  which  from  certain  pre- 
suppositions there  arises  something  new '  (*  Anal.  Prior.' 
i.  1,  24  b.  18).  These  presuppositions  are  expressed 
in  the  premisses,  and  therefore  in  propositions  (both  are 
called  trporacTLs  by  Aristotle).  A  proposition  consists 
in  an  affirmation  or  negative  assertion,  and  is  therefore 
composed  of  two  concepts  (opot),  a  subject  and  a  pre- 
dicate. Nevertheless  Aristotle  only  treats  concepts 
more  at  length  in  connection  with  the  doctrine  of  the 
definition  of  the  concept,  as  part  of  his  metaphysical  in- 
quiries. In  the  proposition  or  judgment  (airo^avaisjj 


SMJ  THE  ARISTOTELIAN  LOGIC.  183 

he  thinks  only  of  the  categorical  judgments,  which  he 
divides  according  to  their  quality  (now  so  called)  into 
affirmative  or  negative,  according  to  their  quantity  into 
general,  particular,  and  indefinite  (TT.  ep/j,r/veias,  into 
general,  particular,  and  singular),  and  according  to 
their  modality  into  assertions  about  Being,  necessary 
Being,  and  possible  Being.  Further,  he  distinguishes 
the  two  kinds  of  opposition,  contradictory  (avrtyaffis) 
and  contrary  (svavriorys).  He  shows  what  judgments 
can  be  converted  simply,  and  what  require  change  in 
their  quantity.  Finally  he  remarks  that  from  the 
combination  of  concepts  in  a  judgment  arises  the  con- 
trast of  true  and  false.  But  the  doctrine  of  the 
syllogism  forms  the  chief  contents  of  this  part  of 
his  Logic.  Aristotle  was  the  first  to  discover  in  the 
syllogism  the  radical  form  in  which  all  advance  of 
thought  moves,  and  he  also  gave  the  name  to  it.  The 
syllogistic  of  his  '  First  Analytics '  gives  an  exhaustive 
account  of  the  categorical  syllogisms  in  their  three 
figures,  of  which  the  second  and  third  receive  their 
validity  by  being  referred  to  the  first.  Into  hypo- 
thetical and  disjunctive  syllogisms  he  does  not  enter. 

Proofs  are  compounded  out  of  syllogisms.  The 
object  of  all  demonstration  (andSe t£is)  is  the  deriva- 
tion of  the  conditioned  from  its  sources,  in  which  (see 
supra)  knowledge  as  such  consists.  The  presup- 
positions of  a  proof  must  therefore  consist  of  necessary 
and  universal  propositions ;  and  a  complete  demonstra- 
tion (a  complete  science)  is  only  realised  when  that 
which  has  to  be  proved  is  derived  through  all  the  in- 
termediary members  from  its  highest  presuppositions. 


184  ARISTOTLE.  [$  ^5 

Such  a  derivation  would  not  be  possible  if  the  suppo- 
sitions, from  which  it  starts,  were  in  turn  derivative, 
and  so  ad  infinitum,  or  if  there  were  an  endless  series 
of  intermediate  members  between  the  presuppositions 
and  that  which  has  to  be  derived  from  them. 

All  mediate  knowledge,  therefore,  presupposes  an 
immediate,  which  in  more  precise  terms  is  twofold. 
Both  the  most  general  principles  from  which  the  de- 
monstration proceeds,  and  the  actual  fact  to  which  the 
principles  are  applied,  must  be  known  to  us  without 
proof;  and  if  the  facts  are  known  to  us  by  perception 
in  a  direct  manner,  Aristotle  recognises  in  reason  (vovs) 
the  power  of  direct,  intuitive,  and  therefore  unerring 
knowledge  of  the  most  general  principles.  Whether 
these  principles  are  merely  formal,  or  whether  concepts 
with  a  definite  content  (as  possibly  the  concept  of  the 
Deity)  can  be  known  in  this  manner,  Aristotle  did  not 
inquire.  He  regards  the  rule  of  contradiction,  for 
which  he  establishes  different  formulae  in  its  logical 
and  its  metaphysical  form  though  they  agree  in  fact, 
as  the  highest  and  most  certain  principle  of  human 
thought.  That  even  these  convictions  may  not  be 
without  a  scientific  foundation,  he  introduces  into  them 
induction  (sTraywyr))  in  the  place  of  proof.  Induc- 
tion emphasises  a  general  definition,  inasmuch  as  it 
shows  that  it  actually  holds  good  of  all  the  individual 
cases  brought  under  it.  But  as  a  complete  observa- 
tion of  all  individual  cases  is  never  possible,  Aristotle 
looks  round  for  a  simplification  of  the  inductive  process. 
Following  the  pattern  of  Socrates,  he  establishes  induc- 
tion on  those  assumptions  which,  owing  to  the  number 


*  W]  THE  ARISTOTELIAN  LOGIC.  185 

or  the  authority  of  their  supporters,  may  be  supposed 
to  have  arisen  out  of  actual  experience  (ev&oga).  By 
the  dialectic  comparison  and  examination  of  these  as- 
sumptions, he  endeavours  to  obtain  correct  definitions. 
He  has  applied  this  process  with  singular  ability  and 
wisdom  in  the  airopiai  with  which  it  is  his  habit  to 
open  every  inquiry ;  and  though  it  is  true  that  in  his 
observation  we  miss  the  accuracy  and  completeness, 
and  in  his  use  of  the  statements  of  others,  the  criticism, 
which  we  are  now  accustomed  to  require,  yet  even  in 
this  respect  he  has  done  everything  which  can  be 
reasonably  expected  from  one  in  his  position  and 
with  the  aids  to  scientific  research  which  his  time 
afforded. 

The  fixing  of  concepts  or  definition  (optoyios)  rests 
in  part  on  direct  knowledge,  which  must  be  emphasised 
by  induction.  If  all  our  concepts  denote  something 
general,  which  of  necessity  and  always  is  attached  to 
the  things  of  a  particular  class,  the  concept  in  the 
narrower  sense,  in  which  it  is  the  object  of  definition, 
denotes  the  essence  of  things,1  their  form,  irrespective 
of  their  matter,  the  elements  which  make  them  what 
they  are.  If  such  a  concept  expresses  that  which  is 
common  to  many  thing?  different  in  kind,  it  is  a 
generic  concept  (ysvos}.  When  the  specific  difference 
(Siafopa  etSoTToios)  is  added  to  the  genus,  the  result  is 
the  species  (el&os).  When  this  has  been  more  closely 
defined  by  further  distinctive  marks,  and  this  process 
has  been  continued  as  long  as  possible,  we  obtain  the 

1  oicr/a,   eKoj,  T&  rl   tori,  TO    added  (as  T 
oiTfp   Br.  rb  tlvtu  with  a  dative    fa  tlvtu. 


1S6  AR1&TOTLE.  [§•*> 

lowest  specific  concepts,  which  cannot  now  be  divided 
into  species  but  only  into  individuals,  and  these  make 
up  the  concepts  of  every  object  ('Anal.  Post.'  ii.  13). 
Hence  the  definition  of  the  concept  must  contain  the 
marks  which  bring  about  the  derivation  of  its  object 
from  its  generic  concept,  not  only  with  completeness, 
but  in  a  correct  order,  corresponding  to  the  graduated 
process  from  the  general  to  the  special.  The  essential 
aid  for  the  definition  of  concepts  is  an  exhaustive  defi- 
nition, proceeding  logically.  Two  things  which  are 
furthest  removed  from  one  another  in  the  same  genus 
are  opposed  as  contraries  (Ji/aimW),  but  two  concepts 
are  in  contradictory  opposition  when  one  is  the  simple 
negative  of  the  other  (A,  non-A).  But  Aristotle  also 
applies  these  species  of  the  contradictory  to  the  con- 
ceptions of  relation,  and  to  those  of  having  and 
derivation. 

All  our  concepts  fall  (« Categ.'  4 ; « Top.'  i.  9)  under 
one  or  more  of  the  *  main  classes  of  assertions '  (7/1/17  or 
a-^fiara  TWV KaTijyopia)v\  or*  Categories '  (tcaTiyyopiai), 
which  denote  the  various  points  of  view  from  which 
things  may  be  contemplated,  while  there  is  no  concept 
A  hich  comprehends  them  as  a  class.  Of  these  categories 
Aristotle  enumerates  ten  :  substance,  quantity,  quality, 
relation,  where,  when,  place,  possession,  activity,  pas- 
sivity (ovcrla  or  ri  sari,  Troo-cfo,  TTOIOV^  irpos  n,  Trot), 
TTOT/,  Ksi&dai,  sx£lv>  iroielv,  Trdcr^siv}.  He  is  convinced 
of  the  completeness  of  this  scheme,  but  no  definite 
principle  is  to  be  found  for  its  origin ;  the  categories 
of  possession  and  place  are  named  in  the  *  Categories ' 
and  the  *  Topics,'  but  passed  over  in  all  later  enumera- 


§S6J  THE  ARISTOTELIAN  LOGIC.  187 

tions).1  Of  the  remainder  all  have  not  the  same  value  ; 
the  most  important  are  the  four  first,  and  among  these 
the  category  of  substance,  to  which  all  the  reot  are  related 
as  what  is  derivative  to  what  is  primary.  It  is  these 
caiegories  which  form  the  essential  object  of  the  first 
philosophy  or  metaphysics. 

§  56.  Aristotle's  Metaphysics. 

This  science  is  concerned  with  the  inquiry  into  the 
ultimate  basis,  with  Being  as  such,  with  the  eternal 
incorporeal  and  immovable,  which  is  the  cause  of  all 
movement  and  form  in  the  world.  It  is  therefore  the 
most  comprehensive  and  valuable  of  all  sciences. 
Speaking  more  precisely,  it  is  concerned  with  the 
three  questions  of  the  relation  of  the  individual  and 
the  Universal,  form  and  matter,  the  moving  and  the 
moved. 

1.  The  Individual  and  the  Universal. — Plato  will 
allow  only  the  ideas,  the  universal,  to  be  the  original 
and  bare  reality.  This  forms  the  content  of  our 
concepts,  and  if  he  consequently  described  the  ideas  as 
self-existent  essences,  which  are  independent  of  indi- 
vidual things,  Aristotle  is  in  harmony  with  him.  He 
subjects  the  doctrine  of  ideas  ('  Metaph.'  i.  9,  xiii.  4-10, 
&c.),  and  the  assumptions  connected  with  it,  to  the 
most  penetrating  and  annihilating  criticism  (in  spite 
of  some  injustice  and  inaccuracy).  In  this  criticism 
the  most  decisive  objections  are  that  the  Universal  is 
nothing  substantial;  that  the  essence  cannot  be  ex- 

'  Anal.  Pott.  i.  22,  83  a.  21  b.  16.  Phyt.  v.  1  end.  Met.  T.  1, 
1017  a.  24. 


188  ARISTOTLE.  [|  <* 

ternal  to  the  things  of  which  it  is  the  essence  ;  that 
ideas  do  riot  possess  the  moving  force  without  which 
they  cannot  be  the  cause  of  phenomena.  On  his  part 
he  could  only  regard  the  individual  as  the  real  in  the 
full  sense,  as  a  substance  (ova-la).  For  if  this  name 
is  only  given  to  that  which  can  neither  be  predicated 
of  another,  nor  adheres  as  an  accident  to  another,1  only 
the  individual  nature  is  substance.  All  general  con- 
cepts, on  the  other  hand,  express  merely  certain 
peculiarities  of  substances,  and  even  generic  concepts 
only  express  the  common  essence  of  certain  substances. 
They  can  therefore  be  called  substances  in  an  improper 
and  derivative  manner  (Bsvrspai  ov<ricu\  but  they 
must  not  be  regarded  as  anything  existing  outside 
things.  They  are  not  a  fo  -jrapa  TroXXa,  but  a  £v  KO.TCL 
TroXXcoi/.  But  if  the  form,  which  is  always  something 
universal  in  comparison  with  that  which  is  compounded 
of  form  and  material,  is  allowed  to  have  the  higher 
degree  of  reality  (cf.  infra\  and  only  the  general,  or 
that  which  is  in  itself  earlier  and  better  known,  can  be 
the  object  of  knowledge  (pp.  180,  182),  we  have  here 
a  contradiction  of  which  the  results  run  through  the 
entire  system  of  Aristotle. 

2.  However  vigorously  Aristotle  contests  the  inde- 
pendent and  separate  existence  of  the  Platonic  ideas, 
he  is  not  inclined  to  surrender  the  leading  thoughts 
of  the  doctrine.  His  own  definitions  of  form  and 
matter  were  rather  an  attempt  to  carry  the  subject  out 
in  a  theory  more  tenable  than  that  of  Plato.  The  object 


Categ.5.    awr/a  W  iffrir  .  .  .     Alyrrai    rfr     iv 
trf    xaO'     inroKfifjifvov      riris     forty.     Cf.  o.  2.  1  a.  20  if. 


|M]  ARISTOTLE'S  METAPHYSICS.  189 

of  knowledge,  he  says  with  Plato,  can  only  be  the 
necessary  and  unchangeable ;  all  that  is  perceived  by 
the  senses  is  accidental  and  changeable  ;  it  can  be  and 
not  be  (is  aj  evSs-^ofisvov  teal  etvai  KOI  pr)  slvai);  only 
that  which  is  beyond  sense  and  thought  in  our  con- 
cepts is  as  unchangeable  as  the  concepts  themselves. 
Still  more  important  for  Aristotle  is  the  assumption 
that  every  change  presupposes  something  unchange- 
able, all  Becoming  something  not  in  process  of  becom- 
ing ;  and  this  something,  if  we  examine  it  closer,  is  of 
a  twofold  nature — a  substratum,  which  becomes  some- 
thing and  upon  which  the  change  takes  place,  and  the 
qualities  in  the  communication  of  which  to  the  sub- 
stratum the  change  consists.  The  substratum  is 
called  by  Aristotle  the  tJXi;,  an  expression  coined  for 
the  purpose;  the  qualities  are  called  the  form,  the 
el8os — a  word  used  for  the  Platonic  ideas  (also  fiop<f>qt 
Other  terms  are  used,  see  p.  185,  note).  As  the  object 
of  becoming  is  attained  when  the  material  has  assumed 
its  form,  the  form  of  a  thing  is  the  reality  of  it,  and 
form  generally  is  reality  (ivtpysia,  Iz/rfX^eta)  or  the 
real  (evspysia  oi>).  As,  on  the  other  hand,  the  material 
as  such  is  not  yet  that  which  it  becomes  in  the  result, 
but  must  have  the  capacity  to  become  so,  matter  is 
also  the  possibility  or  the  possible  (Svvafiis,  Swapst 
ov).  If  we  think  of  material  without  form,  we  get  the 
*  first  matter '  (jirp^rri  v\i]),  which,  being  without 
definition,  is  also  called  the  (qualitatively)  unlimited, 
the  common  substratum  of  all  limited  matter.  Yet  as 
it  is  what  is  merely  possible,  it  never  existed  and 
never  could  exist.  On  the  other  hand,  the  forms  are 


190  ARISTOTLE.  [§  56 

not  merely  modifications  or  creations  of  our  most 
universal  form ;  each  is,  on  the  contrary,  eternal  and 
unchangeable  as  that  particular  form,  just  as  the  ideas 
of  Plato,  only  it  is  not,  like  the  idea,  outside  things, 
and  never  was,  in  the  eternity  of  the  world.  The  form 
is  not  merely  the  concept  and  the  essence  of  each 
thing,  hut  also  its  aim  and  the  power  which  realises 
that  aim.  Though  these  different  relations  are  as  a 
rule  apportioned  to  different  subjects,  and  Aristotle  in 
consequence  frequently  enumerates  four  different  kinds 
of  cause — the  material,  the  formal,  the  motive,  and 
the  final  cause — yet  the  three  last  mentioned  coin- 
cide in  their  essence,  and  often  in  fact  in  particular 
cases  (as  in  the  relation  of  the  soul  to  the  body  and  of 
the  Deity  to  the  world).  The  only  original  difference 
is  that  between  the  form  and  the  matter.  This  runs 
through  everything.  Wherever  one  thing  is  related 
to  another  as  the  more  complete,  the  definite,  and 
operating  element,  the  first  is  denoted  as  the  form  or 
actual,  the  second  as  the  matter  or  potential.  But  as  a 
fact  matter  acquires  in  Aristotle  a  meaning  which 
goes  far  beyond  the  concept  of  simple  possibility. 
From  it  arise  natural  necessity  (avdyKij)  and  accident 
(avTOfiarov  and  TVX*J\  which  limit  and  encroach  upon 
the  power  which  nature  and  man  have  of  realising 
their  aims.  On  the  quality  of  matter  rests  all  imper- 
fection of  nature,  and  also  differences  so  vital  as  the 
difference  between  the  heavenly  and  the  earthly,  the 
male  and  the  female.  It  is  due  to  the  resistance  of 
matter  to  form  that  nature  can  only  rise  by  degrees 
from  lower  forms  to  higher;  and  it  is  only  from  matter 


§56)  ARISTOTLE'S  METAPHYSICS.  101 

that  Aristotle  can  explain  that  the  lowest  special  con- 
cepts diverge  into  a  number  of  individuals.  It  is 
obvious  that  matter  thus  becomes  a  second  principle 
beside  form,  endowed  with  a  power  of  its  own,  and 
however  great  the  advantages  which  the  philosopher 
derived  from  his  doctrine  of  form  and  matter  for  the 
explanation  of  phenomena,  we  nevertheless  find  great 
difficulty  in  the  obscurity  which  arises  from  the  fact 
that  ova-fa  is  sometimes  placed  on  a  par  with  the 
individual  and  sometimes  with  the  form  (p.  188). 

3.  From  the  relation  of  form  and  matter  comes  the 
motion,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  the  change  to  which 
everything  in  the  world  which  contains  matter  is  subject. 
Motion  is,  in  fact,  nothing  else  than  the  realisation  of 
the  possible  as  such  (17  rov  Swdpsi  ovros  svrs\^sin^  y 
TOIOVTOV,  'Phys.'  iii.  1,  &c.).  The  impulse  to  this 
realisation  can  only  be  given  by  something  which  is 
already  that  which  the  thing  moved  will  become  owing 
to  the  movement.  Hence  every  movement  presup- 
poses two  things — an  element  moving  and  an  element 
moved,  and  even  if  Being  moves  itself,  both  these  two 
elements  must  be  separate  in  it,  as  soul  and  body  in 
men.  The  moving  element  can  only  be  the  actual  or 
the  form  ;  the  moved  element  is  the  potential  or  ma- 
terial. The  first  operates  upon  the  second  by  rousing 
it  to  move  towards  reality  or  definiteness  of  form. 
From  its  nature  (so  far  as  in  every  structure  there 
exists  a  desire  for  its  realisation  in  use  or  activity) 
matter  has  a  desire  (sfyieoOai,  opsjsaOat,  bp/j,^)  after 
the  form  of  the  good  and  divine  («  Phys.'  i.  9,  192  a.  16, 
ii.  1,  192  b.  18  ;  'Metaph.'  xii.  7,  1072  b.  3).  When 


103  ARISTOTLE.  [§  M 

form  and  matter  touch,  motion  must  of  necessity  always 
arise.  And  as  not  only  form  and  matter,  but  also  the 
relation  of  the  two  on  which  motion  rests,  must  be 
eternal  (for  its  origin  and  decay  can  only  be  brought 
about  by  motion),  as  also  time  and  the  world,  both  of 
which  cannot  be  thought  without  motion,  are  without 
beginning  and  end  (cf.  §  57,  58),  motion  can  never 
have  begun  and  can  never  cease.  The  ultimate  basis 
of  this  eternal  movement  can  only  lie  in  something 
unmoved.  For  if  all  movement  arises  through  the 
operation  of  that  which  moves  upon  that  which  is 
moved,  the  moving  element,  as  it  also  is  moved,  pre- 
supposes a  separate  moving  element,  and  this  goes  on 
till  we  reach  a  moving  cause,  which  is  itself  not  moved. 
If,  therefore,  there  were  no  unmoved  moving  cause, 
there  could  not  be  such  a  thing  as  a  first  moving  cause, 
and  consequently  no  movement  whatever,  and  still  less 
movement  without  a  beginning.  But  if  the  first  mov- 
ing cause  is  unmoved,  it  must  be  immaterial  form 
without  matter,  or  pure  actuality.  For  wherever  there 
is  matter  there  is  the  possibility  of  change,  the  process 
from  the  potential  to  the  actual,  and  movement ;  it  is 
only  the  incorporeal  which  is  unchangeable  and  un- 
moved. As  the  form  is  complete  Being,  and  matter 
incomplete,  the  first  moving  cause  must  also  be  the 
absolutely  perfect,  or  that  in  which  the  series  of  Being 
comes  to  an  end.  Moreover,  as  the  world  is  a  uniform 
whole,  well  arranged,  and  referred  to  a  single  end,  and 
the  motion  of  the  orb  of  the  world  is  uniform  and  con- 
tinuous, the  first  moving  cause  can  only  be  one ;  it 
can  indeed  only  be  the  final  object.  But  the  mere 


§66J         THE  METAPHYSICS  OF  ARISTOTLE.         198 

incorporeal  being  is  nothing  but  thought  or  spirit 
(vovs).  Therefore  the  ultimate  basis  of  all  movement 
lies  in  the  deity  as  the  pure,  perfect  spirit,  infinite 
in  power.  The  activity  of  this  spirit  can  only  consist 
in  thought;  for  every  other  activity  (every  Trpdrrstv  and 
TTOtsiv]  has  its  object  beyond  itself,  which  is  inconceiv- 
able in  the  activity  of  the  perfect,  self- sufficient  being. 
This  thought  can  never  be  in  the  condition  of  mere 
potentiality,  it  is  a  ceaseless  activity  of  contemplation 
(deapia).  It  can  only  be  its  own  object,  for  the  value 
of  thought  is  in  proportion  to  the  value  of  its  contents ; 
but  only  the  divine  spirit  himself  is  the  most  valuable 
and  complete  object.  Hence  the  thought  of  God  is 
the  *  thought  of  thought,'  and  his  happiness  consists  in 
this  unchangeable  contemplation  of  self.  The  spirit 
does  not  operate  on  the  world  by  passing  from  himself 
and  directing  his  thought  and  volition  towards  it,  but 
by  his  mere  existence.  As  the  highest  good  the  simply 
perfect  being  is  also  the  final  object  of  all  things,  that 
to  which  everything  strives  and  moves ;  on  it  depends 
the  uniform  order,  the  cohesion,  and  the  life  of  the 
world.  Aristotle  has  not  assumed  a  divine  will  di- 
rected to  the  world,  or  a  creative  activity  of  the  deity, 
or  an  interference  of  the  deity  in  the  course  of  the 
world.1 

1  The  most  important  pas-  Metaph.  xii.  6  f .,  9  f . ;  D*  Crrlo, 
sages  for  the  theology  of  An-  L  9,  279  a.  17  flL;  Fragm.  12-1«. 
•to tie  are  Pkyt.  viii.  6.  6.  10} 


184  ARISTOTLE.  [I " 


$  57.  AristotWa  Physics. 
Poi/nt  of  View  and  General  Principles. 

If  the  '  First  Philosophy '  is  concerned  with  the  im- 
movable and  incorporeal,  the  object  of  physics  is  the 
movable  and  corporeal,  and  more  precisely  that  which 
has  the  source  of  its  movement  in  itself.  « Nature 
(<f>vai$)  is  the  source  of  movement  and  rest  in  that  in 
which  these  are  originally  found'  ('  Phys.'  ii.  1.  192  b. 
20) ;  but  how  we  are  to  conceive  this  source  more  pre- 
cisely, and  what  is  the  relation  in  which  it  stands  to 
the  deity,  remains  doubtful.  Much  as  the  philosopher 
is  in  the  habit  of  treating  nature  as  a  real  power  opera- 
ting in  the  world,  his  system  gives  him  but  little  right 
to  assume  as  a  substance  such  a  power. 

By  movement  Aristotle  (see  supra)  understands  in 
general  every  change,  every  realisation  of  what  is 
possible,  and  in  this  sense  he  enumerates  four  kinds  of 
movement:  substantial,  or  origin  and  decay;  quanti- 
tative, as  addition  and  subtraction;  qualitative  or 
alteration  (aXXoawo-ts,  the  transition  of  one  material 
into  another) ;  local  (fopd,  change  of  place).  But 
only  the  last  three  are  considered  motion  in  the 
narrower  sense  (icivijo-is),  while  the  conception  of  change 
includes  all  four  (/igra/SoX?;).  All  other  kinds  of 
change  are  conditioned  by  local  movement;  and 
Aristotle  ('Phys.'  iii.  iv.)  examines  more  minutely 
than  any  of  his  predecessors  the  conceptions  which  were 
related  in  the  first  instance  to  this  kind  of  movement. 
He  shows  that  the  unlimited  can  only  be  potential,  iji 


§  57]  THE  PHYSICS  OF  ARISTOTLE.  195 

the  infinite  multiplication  of  numbers,  and  the  divisi- 
bility of  magnitudes ;  it  can  never  be  given  in  reality. 
He  defines  space  (roVoy,  more  rarely  %<wpa)  which, 
however,  he  does  not  sharply  distinguish  from  locality, 
as  the  limit  of  the  surrounding  body  towards  that 
which  is  surrounded,  and  time  as  the  number  of  motion 
in  regard  to  what  is  earlier  and  later  (apiOpos  Kivrjcrsas 
Kara  TO  Trporspov  ical  varspov).  From  this  he  deduces 
the  fact  that  beyond  the  world  there  is  neither  time 
nor  space — that  empty  space  (as  is  stated  more  at 
length  in  opposition  to  the  Atomists)  is  inconceivable, 
and  that  time,  like  every  number,  presupposes  a 
numbering  soul.  He  proves  (to  mention  a  few  things 
out  of  many)  that  movement  in  space,  and,  among  such 
movements,  movement  in  a  circle,  is  the  only  uniform 
and  constant  motion,  which  can  be  without  beginning 
and  end.  Yet  movement  in  space,  and  the  mechanical 
view  of  nature  which  corresponds  to  it,  is  not  sufficient 
in  Aristotle's  opinion  to  explain  phenomena.  He 
maintains  against  it  the  qualitative  difference  of  matter, 
and  not  only  contests  Plato's  mathematical  construction 
of  the  elements,  but  also  the  theory  of  Atoms,  for 
reasons  against  which  this  theory  could  not  be  defended 
in  its  Democritean  form,  and  in  the  existing  state  of 
physical  knowledge.  He  also  assumes,  while  attacking 
the  opposite  theories,  a  qualitative  change  of  matter, 
and  more  especially  of  the  elements,  into  each  other. 
By  this  change  the  qualities  of  one  are  changed  under 
the  influence  of  another.  This  relation  of  activity  and 
passivity  is  only  possible  when  two  bodies  are  opposed 
to  each  other  which  are  partly  similar  and  partly 


196  ARISTOTLE.  [§  67 

dissimilar,  i.e.  when  they  are  opposed  within  the  same 
genus.  In  the  same  spirit  Aristotle  defends  the  notion 
according  to  which  the  intermixture  of  matter  con- 
sists not  merely  in  combination,  but  in  the  formation 
of  a  new  matter  out  of  that  which  has  been  mixed,  a 
notion  opposed  to  the  mechanical  theories.  Still  more 
important  for  him  is  the  principle  that  the  operation  of 
nature  must  be  universally  regarded  not  merely  as  phy- 
sical, but  essentially  as  a  striving  towards  an  end.  The 
end  of  all  becoming  is  the  development  of  potentiality 
to  actuality,  the  creation  of  form  in  matter.  Thus  the 
result  of  the  Aristotelian  doctrine  of  form  and  matter, 
as  of  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  ideas,  is  a  preponderance  of 
the  teleological  explanation  of  nature  over  the  physical. 
'  Nature,'  Aristotle  explains,  '  does  nothing  without  an 
aim,'  *  she  is  always  striving  after  the  best ; '  *  she  always 
makes  the  most  beautiful  that  is  possible.'  Nothing  in 
nature  is  superfluous,  or  in  vain,  or  incomplete ;  in  all 
her  works,  even  the  smallest,  there  is  something  divine, 
and  even  failures  are  applied  by  her,  as  by  a  good  house- 
wife, to  some  useful  object.  That  this  is  the  case  is 
shown  by  the  observation  of  nature,  which  allows  us  to 
perceive  a  most  marvellous  design  in  the  arrangement 
of  the  world,  and  in  all  natural  objects,  however  great 
or  small.  We  are  compelled  to  refer  this  design  to  an  all- 
pervading  movement  towards  an  end  by  the  considera- 
tion that  whatever  occurs  regularly  cannot  be  the  result 
of  accident.  If  we  cannot  ascribe  reflection  to  nature 
this  only  proves  that  she,  like  perfect  art,  creates  what 
is  suitable  to  her  aim  with  the  unerring  certainty  which 
excludes  choice.  Hence  the  real  source  of  natural 


§57]  THE  PHYSICS  OF  ARISTOTLE.  197 

objects  lies  in  final  causes ;  material  causes,  on  the  other 
hand,  are  regarded  by  Aristotle,  as  by  Plato  (cf.  p.  151), 
as  conditions  and  indispensable  aids  (If  vtrodsasws 
dvajKatov,  <rvvairiov,  rb  ov  OVK  avsv  TO  sv),  but  not  as 
the  positive  causes  of  objects.  But  what  resistance  these 
intermediate  causes  make  to  the  teleological  activity  of 
nature,  how  its  effects  are  in  consequence  limited,  so 
that  in  the  earthly  world  (for  in  the  heavenly  material 
is  of  a  different  species)  this  activity  is  forced  into  a 
graduated  progress  from  imperfection  to  perfection,  has 
already  been  observed  (p.  190). 

§  58.  The  Universe  and  its  Parts. 

From  the  eternity  of  form  and  matter,  together 
with  the  absence  of  all  beginning  and  end  in  motion 
(see  supra,  p.  1 92),  follows  the  eternity  of  the  universe. 
The  assumption  that  the  world,  though  it  has  come 
into  being,  will  last  for  ever,  overlooks  the  fact  that 
origin  and  decay  mutually  condition  each  other,  and 
that  that  alone  can  be  imperishable  the  nature  of  which 
excludes  both  the  one  and  the  other.  Even  in  the  world 
of  earth  it  is  only  individual  things  which  come  into 
being  and  decay;  genera,  on  the  other  hand,  are 
without  beginning,  and  hence  men  have  always  been  in 
existence,  though,  as  Plato  also  assumed,  the  race  has 
been  from  time  to  time  partly  destroyed  and  partly  re- 
duced to  savagery  over  wide  districts  by  great  natural 
catastrophes.  Owing  to  this  doctrine  of  the  world  which 
he  was  the  first  to  establish,  and  which  deeply  pene- 
trates into  his  system,  the  cosmogonic  part  of  physics  ia 


198  ARISTOTLE.  [1 68 

of  little  importance  for  Aristotle.   He  has  not  to  explain 
the  origin  of  the  world  but  only  its  nature. 

The  foundation  of  his  explanation  is  the  division  into 
the  two  unequal  parts,  out  of  which  the  universe  is 
composed;  the  world  above  and  the  world  below  the 
moon,  the  heavenly  and  the  earthly  world,  the  Beyond 
and  the  Here  (ra  e/csi  and  ra  svravOa).  The  imperish- 
able nature  of  the  stars  and  the  unchangeable  regularity 
of  their  motions  prove,  what  Aristotle  also  attempts 
to  demonstrate  on  general  grounds,  that  they  are  dis- 
tinct in  their  material  from  perishable  things  which 
are  subject  to  constant  change.  They  consist  of  aether, 
the  body  without  opposite,  which  is  capable  of  change 
in  space  only  and  no  other,  and  has  no  movement 
besides  circular  movement.  But  things  consist  of  the 
four  elements  which  stand  to  one  another  in  a  double 
opposition;  the  opposition  of  weight  and  lightness, 
which  arises  from  their  peculiar  direct  motion  to  their 
natural  localities,  and  the  qualitative  opposition,  which 
results  from  the  various  possible  combinations  of  their 
original  qualities — warm  and  cold,  and  dry  and  moist 
(fire  is  warm  and  dry,  air  warm  and  moist,  water  cold 
and  moist,  earth  cold  and  dry).  Owing  to  this  oppo- 
sition they  are  constantly  passing  into  each  other, 
those  that  are  at  a  greater  distance  by  the  mediation 
of  those  that  are  between  them.  From  this  follows,  not 
only  the  unity  of  the  world,  \vhich  is  also  secured  by  the 
unity  of  theprimum  mobile,  but  also  its  spherical  form, 
which,  however,  Aristotle  proves  on  many  other  physical 
and  metaphysical  grounds.  In  the  centre  of  the  world 
rests  the  earth,  as  a  proportionately  smaller  part  of  it, 


§  58]  THE   UNIVERSE  AND  ITS  PARTS.  199 

which  in  form  is  also  a  sphere ;  round  the  earth,  in 
concentric  spherical  layers,  lie  water,  air,  and  fire  (or 
more  precisely  the  warm- substance,  virs/c/cavfjui,  for 
flame  is  iTrspftoX.^  irvpos}\  then  come  the  heavenly 
spheres,  of  which  the  material  is  thought  to  be  purer 
in  proportion  to  their  distance  from  the  earth.  The 
outermost  of  these  spheres  is  the  heaven  of  the  fixed 
stars  {irpioros  ovpavos\  the  daily  revolution  of  which 
is  brought  about  by  the  deity,  which,  though  occupying 
no  space,  surrounds  it  (cf.  p.  195).  The  movement  of 
every  sphere  consists  in  a  perfectly  even  revolution  upon 
its  axis.  This  Aristotle  assumes  with  Plato  and  all 
contemporary  astronomy,  but  proves  it  in  detail  of  the 
first  sphere.  Hence,  following  a  view  of  the  problem 
which  proceeded  from  Plato,  we  must  assume  the 
.number  of  spheres  and  ascribe  to  them  those  motions 
which  it  is  necessary  to  presuppose  in  order  to  explain 
the  actual  movements  of  the  seven  planets  from 
merely  uniform  circular  motions.  On  this  hypothesis 
Eudoxus  had  already  fixed  the  number  of  the  spheres, 
which  cause  the  motion  of  the  planets,  including  the 
seven  spheres  in  which  the  planets  are  fastened,  at 
twenty-six,  and  Callippus  at  thirty-three.  Aristotle 
follows  them,  but  as  according  to  his  theory  the 
external  spheres  stand  to  the  internal  as  form  to 
matter,  the  moving  to  the  moved,  every  sphere  must 
impart  its  movement  to  all  the  spheres  which  it  in- 
cludes, just  as  the  outermost  does,  which  carries  them 
all  round  in  its  daily  revolution.  Thus  the  independent 
movement  of  each  planet  must  be  disturbed  by  the 
motion  of  the  whole  number  of  circumambient  spheres, 


200  AXI8TOTLB.  ft  68 

unless  special  precautions  are  taken  to  prevent  it. 
Hence  Aristotle  assumes  that  between  the  spheres  of 
each  planet  and  those  of  the  planet  immediately  beneath 
there  are  as  many  '  backward-moving '  spheres  (trtiaipai 
avs\lrrov<rat)  revolving  in  the  opposite  direction,  as 
are  required  to  neutralise  the  influence  of  the  one  upon 
the  other.  The  number  of  these  spheres  he  puts  at 
twenty-two,  and  by  adding  them  to  the  spheres  of 
Callippus  he  obtains  fifty-six  as  the  entire  number  of 
heavenly  spheres,  including  that  of  the  fixed  stars. 
To  each  of  these,  as  to  *  the  first  heaven,'  its  motion 
must  be  imparted  by  an  eternal  and  unlimited,  and 
therefore  incorporeal  substance,  by  a  spirit  belonging 
to  it ;  and  thus  there  must  be  as  many  sphere-spirits  as 
spheres.  For  this  reason  Aristotle  also  extols  the  stars 
as  animated,  rational,  divine  beings,  standing  far  above 
mankind.  But  he  will  not  assign  anything  more  than 
probability  to  his  assertions  about  the  number  of  the 
spheres  and  the  sphere-spirits (' Metaph.' xii.  Sj'Simpl. 
De  Caelo;'  Schol.  in  Arist.  498  ff.). 

In  consequence  of  friction,  especially  in  the  place* 
which  lie  beneath  the  sun,  the  motion  of  the  heavenly 
spheres  gives  rise  to  light  and  warmth  in  the  air. 
But  owing  to  the  inclination  of  the  course  of  the  sun 
this  result  occurs  in  a  different  degree  for  every  place 
in  the  different  seasons  of  the  year.  Hence  follows  the 
circle  of  origin  and  decay,  this  copy  of  the  eternal  in 
the  perishable,  the  flow  and  ebb  of  matter,  and  the 
transposition  of  elements  into  each  other,  out  of  which 
arise  all  the  atmospheric  and  terrestrial  phenomena  with 
which  Aristotle's  meteorology  is  occupied. 


LIVING  BEINQB.  201 


$  69.  Living  Beings. 

Aristotle  has  devoted  a  great  part  of  his  scientific 
labours  to  the  study  of  organic  nature  (see  p.  173). 
For  this  purpose  he  could  doubtless  avail  himself  of 
many  inquiries  of  physicists  and  physicians — as,  for 
instance,  of  Democritus,  but  his  own  contributions,  from 
all  indications,  went  so  far  beyond  theirs  that  we  need 
have  no  scruple  in  calling  him  not  only  the  most  eminent 
representative,  but  also  the  chief  founder  of  comparative 
and  systematic  zoology  among  the  Greeks.  And  even 
if  he  did  not  write  his  work  on  Plants,  yet  from  his 
activity  as  a  teacher  he  deserves  to  be  called  the  first 
founder  of  scientific  botany. 

•  Life  consists  in  the  capacity  of  movement.  But 
every  movement  presupposes  two  things :  a  form  which 
moves,  and  a  material  which  is  moved.  The  material 
is  the  body,  the  form  is  the  soul  of  the  living  being. 
Hence  the  soul  is  not  without  body,  nor  is  it  corporeal, 
and  at  the  same  time  it  is  unmoved,  and  not  a  self- 
moving  element,  as  Plato  thought ;  it  stands  in  the  same 
connection  with  the  body,  as  form  does  everywhere  with 
matter.  As  the  form  of  the  body,  it  is  also  its  object 
(see  p.  190);  the  body  is  only  the  instrument  of  the 
soul,  and  its  nature  is  determined  by  this  office.  This  is 
the  conception  of  the  organic  (a  conception  which,  like 
the  word,  was  first  made  by  Aristotle).  If,  there- 
fore, the  soul  is  defined  as  the  Entelechy  of  an 
organic  body  (svT£\s-^£ia  17  Trpcorrj  a"d)fj,aros  <f>v(riKOU 
upyaviKov,  'De  An.'  ii.  1.  412  b.  4),  this  means  that  it 


202  ARISTOTLE.  [|  5* 

is  the  power  which  moves  the  soul  and  fixes  its 
structure.  It  is,  therefore,  quite  natural  that  the 
teleological  activity  of  nature  comes  most  plainly  to 
the  surface  in  living  things,  because  in  them  from  the 
very  beginning  all  is  calculated  with  regard  to  the  soul 
and  the  operations  proceeding  from  the  soul.  But  if 
that  activity  can  only  overcome  the  resistance  of 
matter  by  degrees  (see  p.  192),  the  life  of  the  soul  is 
in  itself  very  unequal  in  quality.  The  life  of  plants 
consists  in  nourishment  and  reproduction;  in  animals 
we  have  the  additional  factor  of  sensible  perception, 
and,  in  the  great  majority,  of  local  movement;  in 
man  we  go  further  and  attain  to  thought.  Hence 
Aristotle,  partly  in  harmony  with  Plato  (p.  154), 
assumes  three  kinds  of  souls,  which  when  combined 
into  one  individual  soul  become  three  parts  of  the 
soul.  There  is  the  nourishing,  or  plant  soul;  the 
sensible,  or  animal  soul,  and  the  rational,  or  human 
soul.  The  gradation  of  living  beings  corresponds  to 
the  progressive  development  of  the  life  of  the  soul.  It 
proceeds  constantly,  by  the  aid  of  gradual  transitions, 
from  the  most  imperfect  to  the  highest,  while  the 
numerous  analogies,  which  we  find  between  the  various 
parts,  show  that  the  whole  series  is  governed  by  the 
same  laws. 

Plants  form  the  lowest  stage.  Limited  to  the 
functions  of  nourishment  and  reproduction,  they  are 
without  any  uniform  centre  (fisaorijs)  for  their  life,  and 
are  therefore  incapable  of  feeling.  In  the  treatises 
which  have  come  down  to  us,  Aristotle  only  allows 
them  a  passing  notice.  With  animals,  on  the  other 


§59]  LIVING  BEINGS.  203 

hand,  he  occupies  himself  in  great  detail,1  and  makes  it 
his  object  throughout  to  unite  the  knowledge  of  their 
importance  for  the  whole,  and  their  position  in  the  whole, 
with  the  most  exact  acquaintance  with  particular  facts. 
The  body  of  animals  is  composed  of  matter  consisting 
of  like  parts  (o/zoto/zep?)),  which  in  turn  is  a  mixture  of 
elementary  matter.  Flesh  is  the  seat  of  feeling 
(•the  nerves  were  a  later  discovery),  and  is  thus  of 
special  importance.  The  direct  repository  of  the  soul 
is  the  breath  as  the  source  of  living  warmth,  a  body 
connected  with  the  aether,  with  which  it  passes  in  the 
seed  from  the  father  to  the  child.  The  chief  seat  of 
living  warmth  is  the  central  organ,  which  in  san- 
guineous animals  is  the  heart.  In  the  heart  the  blood 
is  prepared  from  the  nourishment  conveyed  to  it  by  the 
veins.  The  blood  serves  partly  for  the  nourishment  of 
the  body,  and  partly  also  (see  below)  gives  rise  to 
certain  presentations.  The  genesis  of  animals  assumes 
various  forms  which  the  philosopher  has  carefully  in- 
vestigated. Besides  sexual  generation,  he  assumes  an 
original  generation,  even  among  certain  fishes  and 
insects.  Yet  the  first  kind  of  genesis  is  in  his  eyes 
the  more  perfect.  The  male  sex  stands  to  the  female 
as  form  to  matter.  The  soul  of  the  child  comes  ex- 
clusively from  the  first,  the  body  from  the  second.  The 
physiological  reason  of  this  different  relation  lies  in 
the  fact  that  the  female  sex,  owing  to  its  colder  nature, 
cannot  sufficiently  prepare  the  blood  needed  for  the 
generative  material.  The  mode  in  which  the  organism 
is  shaped  consists  in  general  in  the  development  from 
1  J.  B.  Meyer,  Arigtutele*'  Thierkunde.  1855. 


204  ARISTOTLE.  [§  59 

the  vermicular  shape,  through  the  egg,  to  an  organic 
form.  But  in  regard  to  their  genesis,  as  in  regard  to 
their  bodily  structure,  their  habitats,  their  mode  of  life, 
and  progression,  there  are  the  most  remarkable  differ- 
ences among  animals.  Aristotle  is  at  pains  to  prove  the 
gradual  progress  from  the  lower  to  the  higher,  which 
he  assumes,  in  all  these  respects,  but  we  cannot  be 
astonished  if  he  has  failed  to  carry  this  point  of  view 
through  without  some  deviation,  or  establish  upon  it 
a  natural  classification  of  the  animal  kingdom.  Among 
the  nine  classes  of  animals  which  he  usually  enumerates 
(viviparous  quadrupeds,  oviparous  quadrupeds,  birds, 
fishes,  whales,  molluscs,  scaly  animals,  those  with  soft 
scales,  and  insects),  the  most  important  contrast  is  that 
between  the  bloodless  and  sanguineous  animals,  of 
which  he  himself  remarks  ('  Hist.  An.'  iii.  7.  516  b.  22) 
that  it  coincides  with  the  distinction  between  inverte- 
brate and  vertebrate  animals. 

§  60.  Man. 

Man  is  distinguished  from  all  other  living  beings 
by  spirit  (yovs)  which  in  him  is  combined  with  the 
animal  soul.  Even  his  bodily  structure  and  the  lower 
activities  of  his  soul  answer  to  the  loftier  calling  which 
they  have  received  by  this  combination.  In  his  bodily 
structure  this  is  proclaimed  by  his  upright  position 
and  the  symmetry  of  his  figure ;  he  has  the  purest 
blood  and  the  most  of  it;  the  largest  brain,  and  the 
highest  temperature;  in  the  organs  of  speech  and 
the  hand  he  possesses  the  most  valuable  of  all  organs. 
Of  the  sensuous  activities  of  the  soul,  perception 


1 60]  MAN.  206 

(a"<T0r)(Tii)  is  a  change  which  is  brought  about  in  the 
soul  by  that  which  is  perceived,  through  the  medium 
of  the  body ;  and  more  precisely  it  consists  in  the  fact 
that  the  form  of  what  is  perceived  is  imparted  to  the 
person  perceiving  it.  But  the  separate  senses,  as  such 
only,  inform  us  on  those  qualities  of  things,  to  whieh 
'  hey  «tand  in  a  special  relation  ;  what  they  tell  us  of  this 
(the  cua-O^Gis  rwv  ISicav)  is  always  true.  The  general 
qualities  of  things,  on  the  other  hand,  about  which  we 
obtain  information  through  all  the  senses,  unity  and 
number,  size  and  figure,  time,  rest  and  motion,  we  do 
not  know  by  any  special  sense,  but  only  through  a 
Common  Sense  (ala-drjTijpiov  KOIVOV)  in  which  all  the 
impressions  of  the  senses  meet.  It  is  by  this  common 
sense  that  we  compare  and  distinguish  the  perceptions 
of  the  various  senses,  refer  the  pictures  which  they 
present  to  objects,  and  become  conscious  that  our  per- 
ception is  our  own.  The  organ  of  this  common  sense 
is  the  heart.  If  motion  in  the  organ  of  sense  continues 
beyond  the  duration  of  the  perception,  communicates 
itself  to  the  central  organ,  and  there  calls  up  a  new 
presentation  of  the  sensuous  picture,  the  result  is  an 
imagination  (fyavTaaia,  which  term  is  also  given  to 
imagination  as  a  power).  This,  like  all  utterances  of 
the  common  sense,  can  be  not  only  true  but  false.  If 
an  imagination  is  recognised  as  a  copy  of  an  earlier 
perception  (in  regard  to  which  deception  is  not  un- 
common) we  call  it  a  remembrance  (fj,v^fit)\  the 
conscious  evoking  of  a  remembrance  is  recollection 
(avdpvr)<ris).  Hence  memory  has  its  seat  equally  in 
the  common  sense.  A  change  in  the  central  orgap 


206  ARISTOTLE.  [I  M 

caused  by  digestion  produces  sleep;  and  the  extinction 
of  living  warmth  in  it  produces  death.  Internal  move- 
ments in  the  organs  of  sense,  or  even  such  as  are 
evoked  by  external  impressions,  if  they  reach  the 
central  organ,  result  in  dreams;  dreams,  therefore, 
under  certain  circumstances,  can  be  indications  of  an 
incident  unnoticed  in  our  waking  life.  When  an 
object  of  perception  is  ranged  under  the  (rood  or  the 
Evil,  it  gives  rise  to  pleasure  or  aversion  (feelings 
which,  as  is  indicated  *  De.  An.'  iii.  7,  always  contain  a 
judgment  of  value)  and  from  these  comes  a  desire  to 
attain  or  avoid.  These  conditions  also  proceed  from 
the  central  point  of  feeling  (the  alarOrjTiicr)  pea-drr}*, 
loc.  dt.  431  a.  11).  No  further  distinction  is  made 
between  emotion  and  desire,  and  if  Aristotle,  like 
Plato,  opposes  eTndvfita  and  Ovfios  as  the  purely 
sensual  and  the  nobler  form  of  irrational  desire, 
he  has  not  more  closely  defined  the  conception  of 
Ovfws.  Under  the  term  he  understands  anger,  courage, 
and  feeling. 

But  all  these  functions  belong  as  such  to  the  animal 
soul,  to  which  in  man  there  is  added  for  the  first  time 
the  spirit  or  thinking  power  (vovs).  While  the  animal 
soul  is  born  and  perishes  with  the  body  of  which  it  is 
the.  form,  the  spirit  is  without  beginning  or  end.  Before 
procreation  it  enters  into  the  soul-germ  from  without 
(OvpaOsv);  it  has  no  bodily  organ  and  is  not  subject  to 
suffering  or  change  (a-n-a^s),  nor  is  it  affected  by  the 
death  of  the  body.  But  as  the  spirit  of  a  human  in- 
dividual, in  connection  with  a  soul,  it  is  influenced  by 
the  change  of  circumstances.  In  the  individual  th« 


§60]  MAN.  207 

powfe*  of  thought  precedes  actual  thought ;  his  spirit 
is  like  a  tabula  rasa,  on  which  a  definite  subject  ia 
first  written  by  thought  itself  (this  does  not  mean  by 
sensuous  perception,  but  by  the  intuition  of  voyrd),  and 
thought  it,  always  accompanied  by  sensuous  images 
(<f>avrao-fj.arn).  Hence  Aristotle  distinguishes  two 
kinds  of  vovs ;  that  which  does  everything,  and  that 
which  becomes  everything ;  the  active  and  the  passive.1 
The  latter  is  considered  as  being  born  and  decaying 
with  the  body,  whue  the  active  vovs  is  eternal  in  its 
nature  (the  one  is  frOapros,  the  other  d'tSios}.  But 
inasmuch  as  our  thought,  as  individuals,  is  only  pos- 
sible by  the  co-operation  of  both,  we  have  no  remem- 
brance of  the  earlier  existence  of  our  spirit;  nor  can 
any  of  those  activities  >*hich,  according  to  Aristotle, 
are  found  only  in  beings  oompounded  of  vovs  and  soul,8 
be  ascribed  to  the  bodiless  .spirit  either  before  or  after 
its  present  life.3  More  exa^t  definitions  on  the  nature 
of  passive  reason,  and  its  relation  to  the  active,  will  be 
sought  in  vain  in  Aristotle ;  we  do  indeed  see  that  he 
attempted  to  find  a  bond  in  them  which  is  to  establish 
the  connection  between  the  imvs  and  the  animal  soul ; 
but  he  does  not  show  us  ho-rfr  the  various  qualities 
which  he  ascribes  to  it  can  be  united  without  contra- 
diction ;  nor  has  he  even  raised  the  question, 

1  The    latter    he     calls    vovs  of  the  vovs  but  of  the  KOIVOV. 
•KO.QHTIK&S,  the  former  he   terms          *  For  the  above,  cf.  De.  An. 
rb     iroiovv.      The     phrase     vovs  iii.  4.  5.  c.  7.  431  a.  14;  b.  2,  c.  8. 
TOJTJT«K<JJ   is  first  found  in  later  432  a.  8,  i.  4.  408  b.  18  ff.,  ii.  2. 
writers.  413  b.  24 ;   Gen.   An.  ii    3.     Cf. 

2  The   oiavot^eai,   <p(AeiV,    ftt-  Phil.  d.   Gr.  ii.  b.  566  ff.,  602  ff. 
fftiv,  ftvrt^ovfvftv,  which,  accord-  Sitzungsber.  d.  Berl.  Akad.  188?. 
ing  to  De  An.  i.  4,  are  not  idfy  Nr.  49. 


Hue  ARISTOTLE.  ti  K 

what  is  the  seat  of  the  human  personality ;  how  the 
bodily  vovs  can  lead  a  personal  life  without  memory 
&c. ;  how,  on  the  other  hand,  self-consciousness  and 
unity  of  personal  life,  of  which  it  is  the  expression, 
arise  by  the  combination  of  the  vovs  with  the  animal 
soul,  of  the  eternal  with  the  perishable,  and  how  the 
nature  compounded  of  both  can  be  their  subject. 

On  the  combination  of  reason  with  the  lower  powers 
of  the  soul  rest  those  spiritual  activities  by  which  man 
is  raised  above  the  animals.  The  activity  of  the  vovs, 
purely  as  such,  is  that  immediate  grasping  of  the 
highest  truths,  which  has  been  already  mentioned. 
From  this,  Aristotle,  following  Plato,  distinguishes 
mediate  knowledge  as  §iavoia  or  e-Trterr^/iT?,  and  from 
this  again  opinion,  which  is  related  to  what  is  not 
necessary.  But  Aristotle  gives  no  further  psycho- 
logical explanation  of  one  or  the  other.  If  desire  is 
accompanied  by  reason  it  becomes  volition  (ftovXTja-is). 
Aristotle  unconditionally  presupposes  freedom  of  will, 
and  proves  it  by  the  fact  that  virtue  is  voluntary,  and 
we  are  universally  held  accountable  for  our  acts. 
Hence,  he  also  maintains  that  our  volition  decides  on 
the  final  aims  of  our  action  (the  most  universal  moral 
judgments),  and  I  .hat  the  correctness  of  our  aims 
depands  on  virtut  ('Eth.'  vi.  13.  1144  a.  6  &c.).  On 
the  other  hand,  reflection  must  fix  on  the  best  means 
for  these  ends.  So  far  as  reason  renders  this  service 
it  is  called  the  reflective  or  practical  reason  (vovs  or 
\ofjos  TrpatCTiKos,  Stdvoia  trpaKTiK^  TO  Xoyi<rri/coV,  in 
distinction  to  iTri<rrT)fioviic6v)t  and  prudence  (insight, 
consists  in  the  improvement  of  this  reason. 


$60]  MAN.  00U 

More  precise  inquiries  about  the  internal  processes  b\ 
which  acts  of  will  are  realised,  the  possibility  and  the 
limits  of  the  freedom  of  the  will,  are  not  found  in 
Aristotle. 

§  61.  The  Ethics  of  Aristotle. 

The  aim  of  all  human  activity  is,  in  general, 
Happiness.  On  this  fact  no  Greek  moralist  had  any 
doubt.  Happiness  alone  is  desired  for  its  own  sake, 
and  not  for  the  sake  of  something  else.  But  Aristotle 
does  not  derive  the  measure,  by  which  the  conditions  of 
happiness  are  determined,  from  the  subjective  feeling, 
but  from  the  objective  character  of  the  activities  of  life. 
'  Eudaimonia '  consists  in  the  beauty  and  perfection  of 
existence  as  such ;  the  enjoyment  which  arises  in  each 
individual  from  this  perfection  is  only  a  consequence 
of  it,  not  the  ground  upon  which  its  value  rests,  and  on 
which  its  extent  depends.  For  every  living  creature 
the  good  consists  in  the  perfection  of  its  activity ;  and 
therefore  for  men,  according  to  Aristotle,  it  consists  in 
the  perfection  of  the  specially  human  activity.  This 
is  the  activity  of  reason,  and  virtue  is  the  activity 
of  reason  in  harmony  with  its  mission.  Hence  the 
happiness  of  men,  as  such,  consists  in  virtue.  Or  if 
two  kinds  of  activity  and  two  series  of  virtues  are  to 
be  distinguished — the  theoretic  and  the  practical— 
scientific  or  pure  activity  of  thought  is  the  more 
valuable,1  practical  activity  or  ethical  virtue  is  the 
second  essential  constituent  of  happiness.  But  there 

'  Metaph.  rii.  7.  1072  b.  24 :  $  Otupt*  T*  tfurrw  ad  Ipurr**. 
&4.X.7.C.8.  1178  b.  J  ff. 


210  ARISTOTLE.  [i 61 

are  further  considerations.  Maturity  and  perfection 
of  life  are  a  part  of  happiness:  a  child  cannot  be 
happy  because  he  is  as  yet  incapable  of  any  complete 
activity  (apery).  Poverty,  sickness,  and  misfortune 
disturb  happiness,  and  withdraw  from  virtuous  activity 
the  aids  which  wealth,  power,  and  influence  secure  to  it ; 
delight  in  children,  intercourse  with  friends,  health, 
beauty,  noble  birth  are  in  themselves  valuable.  But 
only  inward  excellence  is  the  positive  constituent 
element  of  happiness.  To  this,  external  and  corporeal 
goods  are  related  merely  as  negative  conditions  (like 
material  causes  to  final  causes  in  nature);  even  the 
extremity  of  misfortune  cannot  make  a  good  man 
miserable  (ad\io$\  though  it  may  stand  in  the  way  of 
his  eudaimonia.  Just  as  little  does  pleasure  form  an 
independent  part  of  the  highest  good  in  the  sense  that 
it  can  be  made  an  object  of  action.  For  though  it 
is  inseparable  from  every  perfect  activity,  as  the  natural 
result  of  it,  and  does  not  deserve  the  reproaches  which 
Plato  and  Speusippus  have  heaped  upon  it,  yet  its 
value  depends  entirely  on  that  of  the  activity  from  which 
it  has  arisen.  He  only  is  virtuous  who  is  satisfied  by 
the  performance  of  what  is  good  and  beautiful  without 
any  addition,  and  who  joyfully  sacrifices  everything 
else  to  this  activity  ('Eth.'  i.  5-11;  x.  1-9,  cf.  vii. 
12-15). 

Of  the  qualities  on  which  happiness  rests,  the 
advantages  of  thought  and  volition,  the  dianoetic  and 
ethical  virtues,  the  latter  only  are  the  object  of  ethics. 
The  conception  of  ethical  virtue  is  defined  by  three 
notes :  it  is  a  certain  quality  of  will,  which  is  placed 


§«l]  THE  ETHICS  OF  ARISTOTLE.  211 

in  the  mean  suitable  to  our  nature,  as  fixed  by  reason 
and  in  the  manner  in  which  the  prudent  man  would 
fix  it  (e%is  TrpoatpsriKr)  sv  fisa-orijri  oixra  ry  Trpn* 
fads,  oDpHTjAevr)  Xoyw  KCLI  a>s  av  6  <^povL^os  opiasisv 
1  Eth.*  ii.  6,  init.).  These  definitions  are  carried  out 
further,  first  in  a  general  manner  in  *  Eth.'  i.  13-ii.  9  ; 
and  then  more  specially,  the  first  in  iii.  1—8 ;  the  secoud 
in  iii.  9-v.  15 ;  the  third  in  Book  vi. 

(1)  All  virtues  rest  on  certain  natural  capacities 
(apsral  (f>v<riKai,) ;  but  they  only  become  virtues  in  the 
proper  sense  (/cvpia  dpsrij)  when  they  are  accompanied 
by  insight.     On  the  other  hand,  virtue  as  ethical  has 
its  seat  specially  in  the  will.     When  Socrates  referred 
it  to  knowledge,  he  overlooked  the  fact  that  in  virtue 
the  free  decision  of  the  will  is  concerned,  not  with  the 
knowledge  of  moral  rules,  but  with  their  application^with 
the  government  of  the  passions  by  the  reason.     Hence 
Aristotle  devotes  a  special  examination  to  the  concep- 
tions which  denote  the  various  forms  of  the  determina- 
tion of  the  will  ('  Eth.'  iii.),  the  conception  of  what  is 
voluntary,  what  is  intended,  &c.   But  the  determination 
of  will  only  becomes  virtue  when  it  is  a  lasting  quality 
(!£«•),  a  firmly  established  sentiment,  such  as  can  only 
be  found  in  mature  men. 

(2)  Regarded   as  to   its   contents  that  quality  of 
will  is  to  be  called  moral  which  preserves  the  right 
mean  between  excess  and  defect.     The  nature  of  this 
mean  depends  upon  the  peculiar  nature  of  the  actor, 
for  what  is  correct  for  one  person  may  be  too  much 
or  too   little   for  another.      Every   virtue   is    there- 
fore a  mean   between  two  defects,  of  which  some- 


212  ARISTOTLE.  [§  61 

times  the  one  and  sometimes  the  other  is  the  more 
distant.  Aristotle  proves  this  more  at  length  in  the 
case  of  the  individual  virtues,  bravery,  self-control,  &c., 
without,  however,  deriving  them  according  to  any  fixed 
principle,  such  as  Plato  follows  in  his  cardinal  virtues. 
He  treats  justice,  the  cardinal  virtue  of  civic  life,  most 
fully,  devoting  to  it  the  whole  fifth  book  of  his  '  Ethics,' 
a  treatise  which  remained  through  the  middle  ages  the 
basis  of  natural  law.  He  regards  as  its  object  the  correct 
apportionment  of  rewards  and  punishments  (icfySos  and 
$r)fjLia\  and  according  as  he  deals  with  public  or  private 
law  he  distinguishes  justice  in  dividing  (SiavspyriKij) 
from  justice  in  correcting  (SiopOwn/cij).  The  first  has 
to  apportion  the  honours  and  advantages  which  accrue 
to  the  individual  from  the  community  according  to 
the  worth  of  the  recipient,  the  second  must  see  that 
the  balance  of  gain  and  loss  is  kept  on  either  side  in 
voluntary  contracts  (<rvva\\djfiara  sKov<ria\  and  that 
of  offence  and  punishment  in  involuntary  legal  pro- 
cesses. For  the  first,  as  Aristotle  perversely  maintains, 
the  principle  of  geometrical  proportion  holds  good,  for 
the  second  the  principle  of  arithmetical  proportion. 
Justice  in  the  strictest  sense  is  that  which  holds  good 
for  equals,  i.e.  political  justice.  This  is  partly  natural 
and  partly  legal ;  and  equity  consists  in  a  correction  of 
the  second  by  the  first. 

(3)  Who  is  to  decide  in  any  given  case  where  the 
proper  mean  lies  ?  Aristotle  tells  us  that  this  is  the 
work  of  insight  (cf.  §  60,  end),  which  differs  from 
the  other  dianoetic  virtues,  because  these  are  partly 
directed  to  what  is  necessary  only,  like  vovs  and 


THE  ETHICS  OF  ARISTOTLE.  213 

(cf.  p.  208),  and  <ro<j)ia  which  arises  from 
the  two;  and  partly,  like  T^PIJ,  though  concerned 
with  what  is  changeable,  they  make  production  and 
not  action  their  aim  (cf.  p.  181). 

From  virtues  and  vices  in  the  proper  sense — i.e. 
from  correct  and  perverse  qualities  of  will — Aristotle 
distinguishes  (vii.  1-11)  those  conditions  which  arise 
not  so  much  from  an  habitual  direction  of  will,  as 
from  the  strength  or  weakness  of  the  will  in  regard 
to  the  passions  -  moderation  and  endurance  (sytcpdrsia 
and  Kaprspia)  on  the  one  hand;  and  on  the  other 
excess  and  effeminacy.  Finally,  in  his  beautiful  sec- 
tion on  love  and  friendship  (for  <j)t\ia  means  both),  so 
full  of  the  most  delicate  observations  and  the  most 
pertinent  remarks  (Books  viii.  ix.),  he  turns  his 
attention  to  a  moral  relation  in  which  it  is  already 
announced  that  man  in  his  nature  is  a  social  being, 
and  even  that  every  man  is  related  and  friendly  to 
every  other  (viii.  1.  1155  a.  16  ff.;  c.  13.  1161  b.  5), 
and  that  a  common  justice  unites  all  men  ('  Khet.'  i. 
13,  init.).  This  trait  is  the  foundation  of  the  family 
and  the  State. 

§  62.     The  Politics  of  Aristotle. 

The  impulse  towards  a  common  life  with  his  fellows 
lies  in  the  very  nature  of  man  (avO pwiros  fyva-si,  TroXtrt- 
KOV  tyov,  <Pol.'  i.  2,  1253  a.  2),  and  this  common  life 
is  needed  not  only  to  sustain,  secure,  and  complete  his 
physical  existence,  but  above  all  because  it  is  only  by 
this  means  that  a  good  education  and  an  arrangement 
of  life  by  law  and  justice  is  possible  ('Eth.'  i.  10), 


JU  ARISTOTLE.  r§  «* 

The  aim  of  the  State,  therefore,  is  not  limited  to  secu- 
ring legality,  repulsing  foreign  enemies,  and  sustaining 
life ;  its  mission  is  something  far  higher  and  more 
comprehensive,  being  nothing  less  than  the  happiness 
of  the  citizens  in  a  perfect  common  life  (17  rov  ev  %rjv 
KoivwvLa  or  ^(arjs  Te\sias  %dpiv  KO,\  avrdpicovs, '  Pol.'  iii. 
9.  1288  b.  33).  For  this  reason  the  State  is  in  its 
nature  prior  to  the  individual  and  the  family,  as  in 
truth  the  parts  of  a  whole  are  invariably  conditioned 
by  the  whole  as  their  aim  to  which  they  are  sub- 
servient ('Pol.'  i.  2).  And  as  virtue  is  the  most 
essential  part  of  happiness,  Aristotle,  like  Plato,  recog- 
nises the  chief  object  of  the  State  to  be  the  education 
of  the  people  in  virtue,  and  he  distinctly  disapproves 
of  any  arrangement  by  which  a  State  is  devoted  to  war 
and  conquest  instead  of  the  peaceful  care  of  moral  and 
scientific  education. 

But  in  point  of  time,  at  any  rate,  families  and 
communities  precede  the  State.  Nature  in  the  first 
instance  brings  man  and  wife  together  to  found  a 
household  ;  families  extend  into  villages  (tcwpai) ;  the 
combination  of  several  villages  makes  a  State-com- 
munity (-TroXiy),  which  Aristotle  does  not  distinguish 
from  the  State.  The  village-community  is  merely  a 
stage  in  the  transition  to  the  State,  in  which  it  ends. 
On  the  other  hand,  Aristotle  shows  in  the  most  strik- 
ing manner  ('Pol.'  ii.  1)  that  Plato's  desire  to  sacrifice  the 
family  and  private  property  to  the  unity  of  the  State 
was  not  only  impossible  to  realise  in  every  respect,  but 
proceeded  from  a  false  notion  of  this  unity.  A  State  is 
not  merely  something  uniform  ;  it  is  a  whole  consisting 


562]  THE  POLITICS  OF  ARISTOTLE.  215 

of  many  various  parts.  Aristotle  treats  of  marriage 
and  the  rest  of  the  relations  of  family  life  with  sound 
moral  intelligence  (*  Pol.'  i.  2,  13;  'Eth.'  viii.  14,  &c.). 
On  the  other  hand  he  also  pays  his  tribute  to  the 
national  prejudice  of  the  Greeks,  when  he  makes  the 
untenable  attempt  to  justify  slavery  by  the  presuppo- 
sition that  there  are  men  who  are  only  capable  of 
bodily  labour  and  must  therefore  be  ruled  by  others ; 
and  this  he  considers  to  be  in  general  the  relation  of 
barbarians  to  Hellenes  («  Pol.'i.  4  ff.).  The  same  holds 
good  of  his  discussions  on  trade  and  industry  (i.  8  ff.). 
He  will  allow  only  those  kinds  of  acquisition  to  be  natural 
which  directly  satisfy  our  needs.  All  trade  concerned 
with  money  he  regards  with  contempt  and  mistrust, 
and  considers  *  banausic '  work  to  be  unworthy  of  a 
free  man. 

In  his  theory  of  political  constitutions  Aristotle 
does  not  follow  Plato  in  regarding  a  single  form  as  the 
only  correct  one,  and  the  rest  as  perversions.  On  the 
contrary  he  sees  that  the  arrangements  of  the  constitu- 
tion must  be  adapted  to  the  character  and  requirements 
of  the  people  for  whom  they  are  intended.  Under 
different  circumstances  different  things  are  correct, 
and  what  is  itself  imperfect  may  possibly  be  the  best 
that  can  be  obtained  under  the  circumstances.  For 
if  the  correctness  of  constitutions  depends  on  fixing 
the  aim  of  the  State,  and  those  are  correct  constitutions 
'  in  which  the  common  good,  not  the  advantage  of  the 
ruling  party,  is  the  final  object  of  the  State,  while  all 
others  are  perversions,  the  form  of  the  constitution 
depends  on  the  apportionment  of  political  power.  This 


219  ARISTOTLE.  i$«« 

1 1)  list  be  determined  by  the  actual  importance  of  the 
various  classes  in  the  nation  for  the  State ;  for  a  con- 
stitution is  not  likely  to  live,  unless  it  has  stronger 
supporters  than  opponents,  and  it  is  only  just  when  it 
assigns  equal  rights  to  the  citizens  so  far  us  they  are 
equal,  and  unequal  rights  so  far  as  they  are  unequal. 
But  the  most  important  differences  among  the  citizens 
relate  to  their  virtue,  i.e.  to  their  personal  capability  in 
everything  upon  which  the  welfare  of  the  State  depends, 
their  property,  their  noble  or  ignoble  origin,  their 
freedom.  Hence  though  Aristotle  aaopts  the  tradi- 
tional division  of  constitutions  according  to  the  number 
of  the  ruling  class,  and  thus  (like  Plato,  « Polit.'  308 
flf.)  enumerates  six  leading  forms,  Monarchy,  Aristo- 
cracy, *  Polity '  (called  also  Timocracy,  *  Eth.'  viii.  12), 
as  correct  forms ;  Democracy,  Oligarchy,  and  Tyranny 
as  perverse  forms  (^aprrj^svai,  7rap£K/3d<T£i$\  yet  he 
does  not  omit  to  observe  that  this  numerical  division 
is  only  derivative.  Monarchy  naturally  arises  when 
one  person  is  so  far  superior  to  all  the  rest  that  he  is 
their  born  ruler ;  aristocracy  when  the  same  is  the  case 
with  a  minority ;  and  *  polity '  when  all  the  citizens 
are  nearly  equal  in  capability  (by  which  in  this  case 
martial  vigour  is  chiefly  meant).  Democracy  comes 
into  being  when  the  mass  of  the  poor  and  free  have 
the  guidance  of  the  State  in  their  hands;  oligarchy 
when  a  minority  of  the  rich  and  noble  men  are  the 
rulers ;  tyranny  when  a  single  person  becomes  by  vio<- 
lence  the  ruler  of  the  State.  On  similar  principles, 
the  participation  of  one  or  other  element  is  determined 
in  the  mixed  forms  of  constitution  (iii.  6-13,  cf.  c.  17. 


§62]  THE  POLITICS  OF  ARISTOTLE.  217 

1288  a.  8 ;  iv.  4 ;  iv.  11  f. ;  vi.  2,  init.*).  Yet  we  cannot 
deny  that  Aristotle  has  not  succeeded  in  bringing  these 
different  points  of  view  into  complete  harmony,  nor 
has  he  carried  them  out  with  perfect  consistency. 

At  the  basis  of  the  description  of  his  '  best  State'  (vii. 
f.,  more  particularly  iv.  f.,  cf.  p.  175)  Aristotle,  like  Plato, 
places  the  arrangements  of  a  Greek  republic.  A  Greek 
State  it  must  be,  for  it  is  only  among  the  Hellenes  that 
he  finds  the  qualities  which  make  the  combination  of 
freedom  and  civic  order  possible.  It  must  also  be  a  re- 
public, because  it  is  only  in  the  heroic  age  that  he  finds 
the  conditions  necessary  for  a  monarchy  in  his  sense  (iii. 
14  ff. ),  and  in  his  own  day  he  believes  (v.  13.  1313  a.  3) 
that  no  single  person  can  rise  so  far  above  the  rest  that 
a  free  people  would  voluntarily  endure  his  sole  dominion. 
His  model  State  is  an  aristocracy  which  in  its  plan 
approaches  the  Platonic,  however  far  removed  from 
it  in  many  of  the  details.  All  the  citizens  are  to  have 
the  right  to  participate  in  the  management  of  the 
State,  and  they  are  to  be  summoned  to  the  exercise  of 
this  duty,  when  they  are  placed  among  those  of  riper 
age.  But  in  the  best  State  those  only  are  to  be  citizens 
who  are  qualified  to  lead  the  State  by  their  position  in 
life  and  their  education.  Hence,  on  the  one  hand, 
Aristotle  demands  that  all  bodily  labour,  agriculture, 
and  industry  must  be  undertaken  by  slaves  or  metics, 
and,  on  the  other,  he  prescribes  an  education  which  is 
to  be  entirely  carried  out  by  the  State.  This  educa- 
tion closely  resembles  that  of  Plato.  Yet,  in  our  in- 
complete work,  neither  the  section  on  education  nor 
the  description  of  the  best  State  is  brought  to  a  close. 


218  ARISTOTLE.  £§  K 

Besides  his  pattern  State,  Aristotle  has  also  dis- 
cussed the  incomplete  forms  with  minute  care.  He 
distinguishes  the  various  kinds  of  democracy,  oligarchy, 
and  tyranny,  which  arose  partly  out  of  the  different 
natures  of  the  ruling  body  and  partly  out  of  the  fact 
that  the  characteristics  of  each  form  are  carried  out 
with  more  or  less  thoroughness.  He  examines  the 
conditions  on  which  depend  the  origin,  maintenance, 
and  decay  of  each  form  of  State,  and  the  arrangements 
and  principles  of  government  which  belong  to  them. 
Finally  he  inquires  what  form  of  constitution  is  best 
for  the  majority  of  States  and  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances. He  finds  the  answer  in  a  combination  of 
oligarchic  and  democratic  arrangements  by  which  the 
centre  of  gravity  of  civic  life  is  thrown  upon  the  pro- 
sperous middle  class.  Hence  he  secures  for  the 
progress  of  his  State  that  regularity,  and  preservation 
of  the  correct  mean,  which  are  the  best  security  for  the 
continuance  of  a  constitution,  and  at  the  same  time  best 
correspond  to  the  ethical  principles  of  the  philosopher. 
Aristotle  calls  this  form  of  State  a  *  polity,'  without 
explaining  its  relation  to  the  constitution  which  bears 
die  same  name  among  the  correct  forms,  but  which 
is  nowhere  explained  in  detail.  Next  to  it  comes 
the  form  *  usually  termed  aristocracy '  (iv.  7).  But 
this  part  of  the  Aristotelian  'Ethics'  is  also  left 
unfinished* 


1 63]        ARISTOTLE'S  RHETORIC  AND  ART.         219 

§  63.  Rhetoric  and  Art.    Attitude  of  Aristotle  to 
Religion. 

Rhetoric  occupies  a  kind  of  middle  place  between 
the  *  practical '  and  *  poetic '  sciences.  On  the  one 
hand,  it  is  treated  as  an  art  (T^T?)  ;  on  the  other,  as  a 
subsidiary  branch  of  dialectic  (in  the  sense  mentioned 
on  p.  173),  and  of  politics  and  ethics — an  application  of 
the  first  to  the  aims  of  the  latter.  The  object  of  the 
orator  is  conviction  by  probability.  Rhetoric  is  the 
artistic  introduction  to  such  conviction,  in  the  various 
provinces  to  which  senatorial,  forensic,  and  epideictic 
speech  are  related.  The  most  important  point  for 
rhetoric,  therefore,  is  the  doctrine  of  oratorical  proof,  to 
which  the  first  and  second  books  of  the  *  Rhetoric '  are 
devoted  (on  book  iii.,  see  p.  176).  Compared  with  this, 
Aristotle  ascribes  a  very  subordinate  and  conditional 
value  to  the  power  of  exciting  anger  or  sympathy,  to 
grace  of  language,  and  skill  in  action,  in  which  rhetoric 
down  to  his  time  had  been  accustomed  to  look  for  her 
strength. 

Aristotle  does  not  appear  to  have  treated  any  of  the 
fine  arts  but  poetry  iu  independent  works,  and  as  his 
•  Poetics '  have  come  down  to  us  in  a  very  mutilated 
form,  we  cannot  gather  from  the  writings  of  the 
philosopher  any  perfect  aBsthetic  theory,  or  any  com- 
plete doctrine  of  art.  The  conception  of  the  beautiful, 
which  is  the  leading  idea  of  modern  aesthetics,  is  as 
indefinite  in  Aristotle  as  in  Plato  (p.  162),  and  is  not 
accurately  distinguished  from  that  of  the  good.  Like 
Plato,  he  considers  art  as  imitation  (/u'/tTjo-i?) ;  but 


220  ARISTOTLE,  t§  68 

what  art  presents  in  imitation  is  not  in  Aristotle  the 
sensuous  phenomenon,  but  the  inner  nature  of  things, 
not  what  has  happened,  but  what  ought  to  happen  accord- 
ing to  the  nature  of  things  (the  avayicalov  r\  elicos)  ;  its 
forms  are  types  (TrapaSsty^a)  of  universal  laws ;  hence 
poetry  is  nc  bier  and  nearer  to  philosophy  than  history 
(*  Poet.'  9.  15).  And  this  is  the  cause  of  its  peculiar 
effect.  If  Aristotle  (*  Pol.'  viii.  5,  7)  distinguishes  a 
quadruple  use  of  music :  (1)  for  amusement 
(2)  for  moral  culture,  (3)  for  recreation 
connected  with  (frpovya-ts),  and  (4)  for  *  purification ' 
(tcddapcns) — if  all  art  may  be  applied  in  one  of  these 
directions,  yet  mere  amusement  can  never  be  its  final 
object.  But  all  the  other  three  operations  proceed 
from  the  fact  that  a  work  of  art  brings  into  sight  and 
application  the  general  laws  in  the  particular  object. 
The  Katharsis,  i.e.  the  liberation  from  disturbing  emo- 
tions, is  not  to  be  regarded,  with  Bernays,  as  merely 
giving  an  opportunity  to  the  emotions  to  relieve  them- 
selves by  occupation.  As  belonging  to  art  it  can  only 
be  brought  about  by  an  excitement  of  the  feelings  in 
which  they  are  subjected  to  a  fixed  measure  and  law, 
and  carried  away  from  our  own  experiences  and  circum- 
stances to  that  which  is  common  to  all  men.  In  this 
sense  we  have  to  understand  the  famous  definition  of 
tragedy.1 

In  regard  to  religion  we  have  nothing  from  Aristotle 

1  Poet.   6.  1449  b.  24.     *<rrir  \6y.    i.e.    x^w,    and    ptfxw)    A 

olv  rpaytaSla  ji/)u7jmj  wpd^fcas  ffttov-  rots  fj.op(ots  (dialogue  and  choi  us), 

8o(aj  ica2  TeX«faj  piyfOos  tx°6<ni*,  tp&vrvv  <cal  ov  81'  aira77«A./aj,  81* 

ilSvffpivip      \6y<p      X^P^      (Ktiffry  fatov    Kal    $6&ov    inpa.ivovffa   rfa 

run  ft'Swr    (the    kinds   of    ^Sua-/*.  rut>  TOIOVTUV  wafhindrwv  xdOapffur. 


M*1  THE  RELIGION  OF  ARISTOTLE.  221 

hut  scattered  expressions.  His  own  theology  is  an 
abstract  monotheism,  which  excludes  any  interference 
on  the  part  of  the  Deity  in  the  course  of  the  world 
(cf.  p.  193).  Though  he  sees  something  divine  in 
nature  and  her  adaptation  of  means  to  ends,  and  more 
immediately  in  the  human  spirit,  the  thought  of  re- 
ferring an  effect  to  any  but  natural  causes  is  so  far  from 
trim  that  he  does  not  accept  the  Socratic  belief  in  Provi- 
dence, even  in  the  form  which  Plato  adopted  it  (p.  161 ). 
He  is  equally  without  any  belief  in  a  future  retribu- 
tion. In  the  Deity  he  finds  the  final  source  of  the 
coherence,  order,  and  movement  of  the  world,  but  every 
individual  thing  is  to  be  explained  in  a  purely  natural 
way.  He  reverences  the  Deity  with  admiring  affection, 
but  demands  no  affection  in  return  and  no  special 
providence.  Hence  the  religion  of  his  country  is  for 
him  true  in  so  far  only  as  it  contains  a  belief  in  a 
deity  and  in  the  divine  nature  of  the  heavens  and  the 
stars — a  truth  which  he  concedes  to  it  as  to  every 
general  and  primeval  conviction :  *  all  besides  is  myth,' 
which  the  philosopher  derives  partly  from  the  incli- 
nation of  men  to  anthropomorphic  presentations,  and 
partly  from  political  considerations  (*  Metaph.'  xii.  8. 
1074  a.  38  ff. ;  *  De  Caelo,'  i.  3.  270  b.  16  ;  ii.  1.  284 
a.  2  ;  <  Meteor.*  i.  3.  339  b.  19;  'Pol.'  i.  2.  1252  b. 
24).  In  the  State  he  desires  to  retain  the  existing 
religion ;  a  reform,  such  as  Plato  held  to  be  necessary, 
is  not  required. 


222  THE  PERIPATETIC  SCHOOL.  [§6< 

$  64.  The  Peripatetic  School. 

After  the  death  of  its  founder,  the  Peripatetic 
school  was  led  by  his  faithful  friend,  the  learned  and 
eloquent  Theophrastus  of  Lesbos  (who  died  288-286 
B.C.,  at  the  age  of  eighty-five,  according  to  Diog.  v. 
40.  58.  68).  By  his  long  and  successful  labours  as  a 
teacher,  and  his  numerous  writings,  which  cover  the 
whole  field  of  philosophy,1  Theophrastus  contributed 
much  to  extend  and  strengthen  the  school.  He  also 
bequeathed  to  it  an  estate.  On  the  whole  he  adheres 
as  a  philosopher  to  the  soil  of  the  Aristotelian  system, 
but  in  particular  points  he  endeavours  to  supplement 
and  correct  it  by  independent  investigations.  The 
Aristotelian  logic  received  various  extensions  and 
alterations  from  him  and  Eudemus.  The  most  impor- 
tant of  these  consist  in  the  separate  treatment  of  the 
doctrine  of  propositions,  the  limitations  of  their  dis- 
tinctions of  modality  to  the  degree  of  subjective 
certainty,  the  enriching  of  the  discussion  of  the 
syllogism  by  the  doctrine  of  *  hypothetical '  conclusions, 
among  which  are  also  reckoned  the  disjunctive. 
Moreover,  as  is  shown  by  the  fragment  of  his  treat>&t;  on 
metaphysics  («  Fr.'  12),  Theophrastus  found  difficulties 
in  essential  definitions  of  the  Aristotelian  metaphysics, 
more  especially  in  the  adaptation  of  means  to  ends  in 
nature,  and  in  the  relation  of  the  primum  mobile  to 
the  world.  We  do  not  know  how  he  solved  these  diffi- 

1  Those  which  have  been  edited  by  Schneider  (1818  ff.) 
preserved,  and  the  fragments  of  and  Wimmer  (1851,  1862) ;  of. 
those  what  are  lost  have  been  p.  8. 


§  64]  THEOPHRASTUS—EVDEMUS.  228 

culties,  but  he  refused  to  abandon  the  determinations 
themselves.  He  modified  Aristotle's  doctrine  on  move- 
ment, and  raised  considerable  doubts  against  his  defi- 
nition of  space.  But  in  the  large  majority  of  cases  he 
follows  the  Aristotelian  physics,  and  especially  defends 
his  doctrine  of  the  eternity  of  the  world  against  the 
Stoic  Zeno  (in  Ps.  Philo,  «^Etern.  Mundi,'  c.  23  ff.). 
By  his  two  works  on  plants,  which  have  come  down  to 
us,  and  which  in  their  leading  thoughts  closely  adhere 
to  Aristotle,  he  became  the  great  authority  on  botany 
till  past  the  end  of  the  middle  ages.  He  deviated 
from  Aristotle  in  denoting  human  thought  as  a  move- 
ment of  the  soul  and  with  minute  care  removed  the  diffi- 
culties which  stand  in  the  way  of  the  distinction 
between  the  active  and  the  passive  reason,  without, 
however,  removing  this  distinction.  His  ethics,  which 
he  embodied  in  several  writings  and  carried  out  into 
detail  with  great  knowledge  of  mankind,  was  charged 
by  (Stoic)  opponents  with  attributing  too  much  value 
to  external  goods;  yet  there  is  at  most  a  slight  differ- 
ence of  degree  between  him  and  his  teacher  in  this 
respect.  He  is  further  removed  from  him  by  his  dis- 
inclination to  marriage,  in  which  he  feared  a  disturb- 
ance of  scientific  labour;  and  in  his  disapproval  of 
blood-offerings  and  flesh-diet,  which  he  derived  from 
the  kinship  of  all  living  creatures.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  follows  his  master  (p.  213)  when  he  main- 
tains that  all  men,  and  not  merely  those  of  one  nation, 
are  interconnected  and  related. 

Beside  Theophrastus  stands  Eudemus  of  Rhodus  as 
the  most  important  of  the  personal  pupils  of  the  Stagirite, 


224  THE  PERIPATETIC  SCHOOL.  [§ « 

He  also  was  active  as  a  teacher  of  philosophy,  no  doubt 
in  his  own  city.  By  his  learned  historical  works  (p.  8) 
ne  did  good  service  for  the  history  of  the  sciences.  In 
his  views  he  adheres  even  more  closely  than  Theo- 
phrastus  to  his  master.  Simplicius,  'Phys.'411.  15, 
calls  him  his  most  faithful  (^vqa-imraros)  disciple.  In 
*  Logic'  he  adopted  the  improvements  of  Theophrastus, 
but  in  his  *  Physics '  he  kept  closely  to  the  Aristotelian, 
often  repeating  the  very  words  (cf.  *  Eudemi  Fragmenta,' 
ed.  Spengel).  The  most  important  distinction  be- 
tween his  ethics  (which  have  been  adopted  into  the 
Aristotelian  collection)  and  the  ethics  of  Aristotle 
consists  in  the  combination  which  he  makes,  after 
Plato,  between  ethics  and  theology.  Not  only  does 
he  derive  the  disposition  to  virtue  from  the  Deity,  but 
he  conceives  speculation,  in  which  Aristotle  had  sought 
the  highest  good,  more  distinctly  as  a  knowledge  of 
(rod,  and  wishes  to  measure  the  value  of  all  things  and 
actions  by  their  relation  to  this.  The  internal  unity  of 
all  virtues  he  finds  in  the  love  of  the  good  and 
beautiful  for  its  own  sake  (Ka\OKdya0ia). 

A  third  Aristotelian  is  Aristoxenus  of  Tarentum, 
who  attained  renown  by  his  '  Harmonics,'  which  we 
still  possess,  and  other  writings  on  music.  Passing 
from  the  Pythagorean  school  into  the  Peripatetic,  this 
philosopher  combined  a  Pythagorean  element  with 
what  was  Aristotelian  in  his  moral  prescripts,  and  in 
his  theory  of  music.  Like  some  of  the  later  Pytha- 
goreans, he  explained  the  soul  to  be  a  harmony  of  the 
body,  and  therefore  opposed  its  immortality.  In  this 
he  was  joined  by  Dicaearchus  of  Messene,  his  fellow- 


§64]  D1C&ARCKUS—STRATO.  226 

pupil.  Dicaearchus  also  deviated  from  Aristotle  hi 
giving  the  advantage  to  the  practical  over  the  theoretic 
life ;  but  on  the  other  hand,  his  *  Tripoliticus '  stands 
essentially  on  the  ground  of  the  Aristotelian  *  Politics.' 
Regarding  Phanias  and  Clearchus  we  have  few  state- 
ments, and  these  mostly  refer  to  history  or  with  the 
first  to  natural  history ;  Callisthenes  (cf.  p.  171),  Leo  of 
Byzantium,  and  Clytus,  are  only  known  to  us  as  his- 
torians, Meno  only  as  a  physician.  The  case  is  the 
same  with  the  pupils  of  Theophrastus :  Demetrius  of 
Phalerum,  Duris,  Chameleon,  and  Praxiphanes ;  they 
are  rather  scholars  and  men  of  literature  than 
philosophers. 

The  more  important  is  Strato  of  Lampsacus,  the 
*  physicist,'  who  succeeded  Theophrastus,  and  for 
eighteen  years  was  head  of  the  Peripatetic  school  at 
Athens.  This  acute  inquirer  not  only  found  much  to 
correct  in  details  in  the  theories  of  Aristotle,1  but  he 
was  opposed  entirely  to  his  spiritual  and  dualistic  view 
of  the  world.  He  placed  the  deity  on  the  same  level 
with  the  unconscious  activity  of  nature,  and  instead  of 
the  Aristotelian  teleology  demanded  a  purely  physical 
explanation  of  phenomena.  Of  these  he  considered 
warmth  and  cold  to  be  the  most  universal  sources, 
and  more  especially  warmth  as  the  active  prin- 
ciple. In  man  he  set  apart  the  spirit  as  something 

1  For  instance,  he  attributed  lying  between  inclosing  and  in- 

weight  to  all    bodies,  and    ex-  closed  bodies.    He  wished  time  to 

plained  the  rising  of  air  and  tire  be  called  the  measure  of  move- 

from    the    pressure    of    heavier  ment  and  rest,  not  the  number  of 

bodies  on  lighter ;  he  assumed  movement ;  the  sky,  as  we  are 

empty  spaces  within  the  world,  told,  he  regarded  as  consisting  of 

and  denned  space  as  the  vacuum  fiery,  not  of  ethereal  matter. 


236  THE  PERIPATETICS.  [§64 

distinct  in  nature  from  the  animal  soul,  and  regarded 
all  activities  of  the  soul,  thought  as  well  as  feeling,  as 
motions  of  the  same  rational  being  which  was  seated  in 
the  head,  in  the  region  between  the  eye-brows,  and  from 
thence  (as  it  seems  with  the  Pneuma  for  its  substra- 
tum) permeated  the  various  parts  of  the  body.  Hence 
he  controverted  the  immortality  of  the  soul. 

Strato  was  followed  by  Lyco,  who  was  leader  of  the 
school  for  forty-four  years,  down  to  226-224  B.C. ;  after 
him  came  Aristo  of  Ceos ;  and  after  Aristo,  Critolaus 
of  Phaselis  in  Lycia,  who  in  156  B.C.,  when  already 
advanced  in  years  (he  was  more  than  eighty-two  years 
old)  visited  Rome  as  an  ambassador  from  Athens  with 
Diogenes  and  Carneades.  His  successor  was  Diodorus 
of  Tyre,  and  Diodorus  (about  or  before  120  B.C.)  was 
succeeded  by  Erymneus.  Contemporary  with  Lyco 
were  Hieronymus  of  Rhodes,  and  Prytanis;  Phormio 
of  Ephesus  lived  about  the  beginning  of  the  second 
century;  about  the  same  time  and  later  came  the 
philosophers  mentioned  on  p.  10,  Hermippus,  Satyrus, 
Sotion,  and  Antisthenes.  But  the  philosophical  services 
of  these  men  appear  to  be  almost  entirely  limited 
to  handing  down  the  Peripatetic  doctrines.  Hence 
they  appear  to  have  chiefly  occupied  themselves  with 
practical  philosophy,  however  celebrated  the  lectures 
of  Lyco,  Aristo,  Hieronymus,  and  Critolaus,  might  be 
in  point  of  form.  Only  in  Hieronymus  do  we  hear  of 
any  considerable  deviation  from  the  Aristotelian  ethics. 
He  declared  freedom  from  pain,  which  he  carefully 
distinguished  from  pleasure,  to  be  the.  highest  good. 
It  is  less  important  that  Diodorus  placed  the  summuin 


§64]  LYCO—HIERONYMVS,   ETC.  227 

bonum  in  a  virtuous  and  painless  life,  for  he,  like 
Aristotle,  considered  virtue  to  be  its  most  indispensable 
element.  Even  those  parts  of  the  spurious  writings  in 
our  collection  of  Aristotle,  which  we  can  refer  to  the 
third  century,  or  at  any  rate  to  the  time  before  the 
end  of  the  second,  deviate  from  Aristotle  only  in 
details  which  are  of  little  importance  from  the  whole 
system.  If  they  furnish  a  further  proof  that  scientific 
activity  did  not  die  out  in  the  Peripatetic  school  after 
Theophrastus  and  Strato,  they  also  show  that  such 
activity,  though  it  might  supplement  and  correct  in- 
dividual details,  did  not  attempt  to  point  out  any  ne^ 
path  for  the  solution  of  the  greater  problems. 


THIRD  PERIOD. 

THE  POST-ARISTOTELIAN  PHILOSOPHY. 
§  65.  Introduction. 

THE  revolution  caused  in  the  life  of  the  Grecian  people 
by  the  rise  of  the  Macedonian  power,  and  the  conquests 
of  Alexander  could  not  fail  to  exercise  the  deepest  in- 
fluence on  science.  In  the  countries  of  the  east  and 
•^outh  an  inexhaustible  field  of  labour  was  opened^  an 
abundance  of  new  intuitions  streamed  in,  new  centres 
of  national  intercourse  and  civilisation  arose.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  Hellenic  mother  country,  deprived  of 
its  political  independence  and  importance,  became  an 
object  of  contention  to  strangers  and  the  scene  of  their 
contests.  The  prosperity  and  population  of  the  country 
sank  in  hopeless  decay.  Moral  life  was  in  danger  of 
being  swamped  in  the  petty  interests  of  private  life, 
in  the  search  for  enjoyment  and  gain,  and  the  struggle 
for  daily  subsistence.  It  had  long  ceased  to  have  the 
support  of  the  old  belief  in  the  gods,  and  it  was  now 
without  the  control  of  a  vigorous  political  activity, 
directed  to  great  aims.  Under  such  circumstances 
it  was  natural  that  the  pleasure  and  the  power  for  free 
and  purely  scientific  contemplation  of  the  world  should 
disappear ;  that  practical  questions  should  force  them- 
selves into  the  foreground,  and  that  the  chief  value  of 
philosophy  should  be  sought  more  and  more  in  the  fact 


§06]  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  229 

that  it  provided  men  with  a  refuge  against  the  miseries 
of  life.  Yet  for  this  purpose  a  definite  scientific  theory 
was  still  found  indispensable,  to  satisfy  the  speculative 
tendencies  of  the  Greek  nation  and  the  convictions 
which  since  the  time  of  Socrates  had  taken  such  deep 
root.  At  the  same  time  it  is  easy  to  understand  that 
this  mission  of  philosophy  could  only  be  satisfied  when 
the  individual  made  himself  independent  of  all  external 
things  and  withdrew  into  his  inner  life.  Social 
union  was  now  recommended  by  those  who  knew  its 
value  from  a  cosmopolitan  rather  than  a  political  point 
of  view,  in  harmony  with  the  relations  of  the  Alexandrine 
and  Koman  period.  This  view  was  the  more  prevalent, 
as  Plato  and  Aristotle,  in  their  metaphysics  as  well  as 
their  ethics,  had  prepared  the  way  for  this  retirement 
from  the  external  world.  The  stages  through  which  this 
mode  of  thought  passed  in  the  centimes  after  Aristotle 
were  stated  on  p.  31. 


FIKST  SECTION. 

STOICISM,  EPICUREANISM,   SCEPTICISM. 

I.  THE  STOIC  PHILOSOPHY. 

§  66.  The  Stoic  School  in  the  Third  and  Secvnd 
Centuries  B.C. 

The  founder  of  the  Stoic  school  was  Zeno  of  Citium 
in  Cyprus,  a  Greek  city  with  a  Phoenician  element.  His 
death  appears  to  have  taken  place  about  270  B.C. ;  his 
birth,  as  he  was  seventy-two  years  old  (Diog.  vii.  28, 


2:TO  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  [§  W 

agains;  which  nothing  is  proved  by  the  interpolated 
letter,  ibid.  9)  about  342  B.C.1  In  his  twenty-second 
year,  he  came  to  Athens,  where  he  attached  himself!  >  the 
Cynic  Crates,  and  afterwards  to  Stilpo,  though  he  also 
availed  himself  of  the  instruction  of  the  Megarian  Dio- 
dorus,  of  Xenocrates,  and  Polemo.  About  300  B.C.,  or 
perhaps  somewhat  earlier,  he  came  forward  as  a  teacher 
and  philosophical  writer ;  his  pupils  were  at  first  called 
Zenonians,  but  afterwards  Stoics,  from  the  Stoa  Pcecile, 
their  place  of  meeting.  Universally  honoured  for  his 
character,  he  voluntarily  put  an  end  to  his  life.  He 
was  followed  by  Cleanthes  of  Assus  in  the  Troad,  a 
man  of  singular  force  of  will,  moderation,  and  moral 
strength,  but  of  less  versatility  of  thought.  According 
to  Ind.  Hercul.  (see  supra,  p.  11),  col.  29,  he  was  born 
in  331  B.C.,  and  died  by  voluntary  starvation,  apparently 
when  eighty  years  of  age  (Diog.  176),  i.e.  in  251  B.C., 
but  according  to  others,  when  ninety-nine  years  old. 
Besides  Cleanthes  the  following  are  the  most  important 
among  Zeno's  personal  pupils :  Persseus,  the  countryman 
of  his  master,  and  sharer  of  his  house ;  Aristo  of  Chius, 
and  Henllus  of  Carthage  (cf.  §  67.  71);  Sphaerus  of 
Bosporus,  the  tutor  of  Cleomenes,  the  Spartan  king,  and 
Aratus,  the  poet  of  Soli  in  Cilicia.  'The  successor  of 
Cleanthes  was  Chrysippus  of  Soli  (he  died  in  01.  143, 
208-4  B.C.,  at  the  age  of  seventy-three,  and  was  therefore 
bon  in  281-76  B.C.),  an  acute  dialectician  and  labori- 
ous scholar.  By  his  successful  labours  as  a  teacher 

'  E.  Rnhde  (Rk.  Mns.  xxxiii.  in  263-4,  the  birth  in  336,  which 
622  f.),  Guinpertz  (ib.  xxxiv.  154)  can  hardly  be  harmonised  with 
place  the  death,  with  Jerome,  Diog.  28.  24. 


§C6]  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  231 

and  his  very  numerous  works — which,  it  is  true,  were 
too  discursive,  and  negligent  in  style  and  exposition — 
he  not  only  rendered  very  great  services  for  the  outward 
i  piead  of  Stoicism,  but  brought  its  system  of  teaching 
to  perfection.  Contemporaries  of  Chrysippus  are  Erato- 
sthenes of  Gyrene  (276-2  B.C.  -196-2  B.c)  the  famous 
scholar,  a  pupil  of  Aristo,  and  the  moralist  Teles,  whose 
Cynicism  leads  us  to  suppose  that  he  also  owed  his 
connection  with  the  Stoa  to  Aristo  (Stob.  'Floril.' 
95,  21).  Chrysippus  was  succeeded  by  two  pupils, 
first  Zeno  of  Tarsus,  then  Diogenes  of  Seleucia  (Diogenes 
the  Babylonian)  who  in  156  B.C.  took  part  in  the 
embassy  of  the  philosophers  to  Rome  (p.  226),  but 
apparently  did  not  long  survive  it.  Of  the  numerous 
pupils  of  Diogenes,  Antipater  of  Tarsus  was  his  suc- 
cessor in  the  chair  at  Athens,  while  Archedemus, 
also  of  Tarsus,  founded  a  school  in  Babylon.  Two  other 
pupils  of  Diogenes,  Boethus  and  Pansetius,  will  meet  us 
in  §  80. 

§  67.  Character  and  Divisions  of  the  Stoic  System. 

Of  the  numerous  writings  of  the  Stoic  philosophers 
for  the  first  three  centuries  of  the  school  only  fragments 
remain.  The  later  accounts  usually  treat  the  Stoic 
doctrine  as  a  whole,  without  expressly  saying  what 
doctrines  belong  to  Zeno,  and  what  are  due  to  his 
successors,  especially  Chrysippus.1  Hence  it  remains 
for  us  to  set  forth  the  system  in  the  form  which  it 

A  detailed  investigation  on  only    parti  illy    accept,    will    be 

this  subject,  the  results  of  which,  found  in  R.  Hirzel,  Lntersuchun- 

so  far  as  they  go   beyond  what  gen  zu  Cicero' t  phU.  Schtifte*,  ii. 

<a  hitherto  acknowledged,  I  can  a.  1882. 


232  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  [f  67 

assumed  after  Chrysippus,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
mark  the  distinctions  of  teaching  within  the  school,  so 
far  as  they  are  known  to  us  and  can  be  made  out  with 
probability. 

What  led  the  founder  of  the  Stoic  school  to  philo- 
sophy was  in  the  first  instance  the  necessity  of  finding 
a  firm  support  for  his  moral  life.  He  first  sought  to 
satisfy  this  need  with  the  Cynic  Crates.  His  followers 
also  regarded  themselves  as  offshoots  from  the  Cynic 
branch  of  the  Socratic  school,  and  when  they  wished  to 
name  the  men  who  had  come  nearest  to  their  ideal  of 
the  sage  they  mentioned  Diogenes  and  Antisthenes  be- 
side Socrates.  Like  these  philosophers  their  object  is 
to  make  man  independent  and  happy  by  virtue  ;  like 
them  they  define  philosophy  as  the  practice  of  virtue. 
(atncrja-is  apsrfjs^  studium  virtutis,  sed  per  ipsam 
virtutem,  Sen.  <Ep.'  89,  5),  and  make  the  value  of 
theoretic  inquiry  dependent  on  its  importance  for  moral 
life.  Their  conception  of  moral  duties  stands  close  to 
that  of  the  Cynics  (cf.  §  71  f.).  But  what  essentially 
distinguished  the  Stoa  from  Cynicism,  and  carried  even 
its  founder  beyond  the  Cynics,  is  the  importance  which 
the  Stoics  ascribe  to  scientific  inquiry.  The  final 
object  of  philosophy  lies  for  them  in  its  influence  on 
the  moral  condition  of  men.  But  true  morality  is  im- 
possible without  true  knowledge  ;  '  virtuous '  and  *  wise  ' 
are  treated  as  synonymous  terms,  and  though  philosophy 
is  to  coincide  with  the  exercise  of  virtue,  it  is  at  the  same 
time  defined  as  'the  knowledge  of  the  divine  and  human.' 
If  Herillus  explained  knowledge  as  the  highest  good 
and  final  aim  of  life,  he  returned  in  this  from  Zeno  to 


§67]     CHARACTER   OF   THE  STOIC  SYSTEM.         233 

Aristotle.  On  the  other  hand,  it  was  an  attempt  to 
retain  Stoicism  in  Cynicism  when  Aristo  not  only 
despised  learned  culture,  but  also  determined  to  be 
ignorant  of  dialectics  and  physics,  because  the  first  was 
useless,  and  the  second  transcended  the  powers  of 
human  knowledge.  In  the  same  feeling,  Aristo,  in  his 
'  Ethics,'  attributed  a  value  only  to  the  discussions  of 
principles ;  the  more  special  rules  of  life,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  explained  as  indifferent.  Zeno  himself  saw 
in  scientific  knowledge  the  indispensable  condition  of 
moral  action,  just  as  he  had  borrowed  from  the  Aca- 
demicians the  division  of  philosophy  into  logic,  physics, 
and  ethics  (see  p.  167).  For  this  systematic  grounding 
of  his  ethics,  he  went  back  primarily  to  Heracleitus, 
whose  physics  were  commended  to  him  before  all 
others  by  the  decisive  manner  in  which  he  carries  out 
the  thought  that  all  individual  things  in  the  world  are 
only  apparitions  of  one  and  the  same  being ;  and  that 
there  is  but  one  law  which  governs  the  course  of  nature 
and  ought  to  govern  the  action  of  men.  On  the  other 
hand,  Zeno  found  a  difficulty  in  the  Platonic  and  Aristo- 
telian metaphysics.  He  was  repelled  by  the  dualism 
which  placed  the  action  of  necessity  by  the  side  of  the 
action  of  reason  in  the  world  (cf.  pp.  148,  197)  and 
thus  seemed  to  endanger  the  absolute  rule  of  reason 
in  human  life.  Moreover,  the  idealism  and  spiritualism 
of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  apart  from  the  difficulties  in 
which  it  had  involved  its  authors,  could  not  be  united 
with  the  nominalism  which  Zeno  had  derived  from 
Antisthenes  (p.  118),  while  it  also  appeared  too  little 
fitted  to  secure  a  firm  basis  for  action  for  Zeno  to 


2:tj  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  [§67 

adopt  it.  The  more  decidedly  did  he  and  his  school 
introduce  the  Socratic-Platonic  teleology,  and  the  belief 
in  Providence  connected  with  it,  into  their  view  of  the 
world.  In  many  details  also  he  supplemented  the  Hera- 
cleitean  physics  by  the  Aristotelian.  Still  greater  is  the 
influence  of  the  Peripatetic  logic  on  the  Stoic,  especially 
after  Chrysippus.  But  even  in  his  ethics  Zeno  was  at 
pains  to  soften  the  harshness  and  severity  of  Cynicism, 
with  the  most  important  results.  Hence  the  Stoic  philo- 
sophy is  by  no  means  a  continuation  of  the  Cynic,  but  it 
has  altered  and  supplemented  it  with  the  help  of  every- 
thing which  could  be  borrowed  from  earlier  systems. 

The  three  parts  of  philosophy,  which  the  Stoics 
enumerated  (though  Cleanthes  added  rhetoric  to  logic, 
politics  to  ethics,  and  theology  to  physics),  were  not 
always  taught  in  the  same  order,  and  different  opinions 
prevailed  as  to  their  relative  value.  The  highest 
place  was  sometimes  assigned  to  physics,  as  the  know- 
ledge 'of  divine  things,'  sometimes  to  ethics,  as  the 
most  important  science  for  men.  Zeno  and  Chrysippus 
however,  belong  to  those  who  began  with  logic,  passed 
from  this  to  physics,  and  ended  with  ethics. 

§  68.     The  Stoic  Logic. 

Under  the  term  Logic,  which  perhaps  Zeno  was 
the  first  to  use,  the  Stoics  since  the  time  of  Chrysippus 
comprehended  all  inquiries  which  were  related  to 
inward  or  outward  speech  (the  \6jos  ^vBidderos  and 
irpofyoftiKos).  They  divided,  it  therefore,  into  rhetoric 
and  dialectic  ;  and  to  the  latter  the  doctrine  of  the  cri- 
terion and  determination  of  concepts  was  sometimes 


f  68J  LOGIC.  23« 

subordinated,  and  sometimes  added  as  on  an  equal  rank. 
In  dialectic  they  distinguished  the  doctrine  of  what  was 
significant  from  that  of  the  thing  signified  (rd  (nmalvov 
and  TO  crTj^aLvofMSvov).  Under  the  former  they  included 
poetics,  the  theory  of  music  and  grammar,  to  the 
development  of  which  in  Alexandrian  and  Roman  times 
Stoicism  largely  contributed.  The  doctrine  of  what 
was  signified  corresponds  in  all  essentials  to  our  formal 
logic.  That  of  the  criterion  contains  the  theory  of 
knowledge  which  prevailed  in  the  school. 

In  opposition  to  Plato  and  Aristotle,  the  Stoics  are 
pronounced  empirics.  If  Antisthenes  had  recognised 
reality  in  individual  things  only,  Zeno  draws  the  con- 
clusion that  all  knowledge  must  proceed  from  the 
perception  of  the  individual.  According  to  the  Stoics, 
the  soul  is  at  its  birth  like  a  tabula  rasa ;  everything 
must  be  given  to  it  by  the  objects.  The  presentation 
(<f>avra(ria)  is,  as  Zeno  and  Cleanthes  said,  an  impres- 
sion (rvirwa-is)  of  things  in  the  soul,  or,  as  Chrysippus 
thought,  a  change  of  the  soul  caused  by  them,  which 
instructs  us  sometimes  on  external  circumstances,  and 
sometimes  also  (as  Chrysippus  at  least  expressly  re- 
marks) on  our  internal  conditions  and  activities. 

Out  of  perception  arise  our  recollections,  and  from 
these  experience  (cf.  p.  182).  By  conclusions  from 
what  is  given  in  perception  we  arrive  at  general 
presentations  (swoiai).  So  far  as  these  are  derived 
naturally  and  without  artificial  assistance  from  universal 
experiences,  they  form  those '  common  concepts '  (tcoival 
ewoiai,  notitice  communes)  which  determine  the  con- 
victions of  men  before  any  scientific  investigation,  and 


236  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  tS  <» 

are  therefore  called  Trpo\r)ty£is,  a  term  borrowed  from 
Epicurus  and  apparently  first  used  in  this  sense  by 
Chrysippus.  Science  rests  on  regulated  demonstration 
and  formation  of  concepts.  The  chief  value  of  science 
is  that  it  forms  a  conviction  which  cannot  be  shaken 
by  objections  (icaraXrj^rLS  d<T<f>a\r)s  teal  d^sraTrrwros 
VTTO  \6yov\  or  a  system  of  such  convictions.  As  all 
our  presentations  arise  out  of  perceptions,  the  value  of 
the  knowledge  they  afford  must  depend  on  the  question 
whether  there  are  perceptions  of  which  it  is  certain 
that  they  agree  with  the  objects  perceived.  But  this 
the  Stoics  maintain.  In  their  view  a  part  of  our  con- 
ceptions is  of  such  a  nature  that  they  compel  us  to  give 
assent  to  them  (o-vytcaraTideo-Oai,)  ;  they  are  connected 
with  the  consciousness  that  they  can  only  arise  from 
something  real,  and  have  direct  evidence  (tvapyeia). 
Hence  when  we  assent  to  these  presentations  we  appre- 
hend the  subject  itself.  It  is  in  assenting  to  such  a 
presentation  that,  according  to  Zeno,  conception  consists 
(tfaraXTj-vJrty,  a  term  invented  by  Zeno).  The  concept, 
then  (as  distinguished  from  the  evvoui,  see  supra\  has 
the  same  contents  as  the  simple  presentation,  but  is 
distinguished  from  it  by  the  consciousness  of  its  agree- 
ment with  the  object.  A  presentation  which  carries  this 
consciousness  with  it  is  called  by  Zeno  a  *  conceptual 
presentation '  ((f>avra(ria  tcaTaXrjTrriK^  which  in  the 
first  instance  doubtless  means  a  presentation  which  is 
suited  to  become  a  Karakuls).  Consequently  he 
maintains  that  conceptual  presentation  is  the  criterion 
of  truth.  But  as  the  *  common  concepts  '  arise  out  of 
perceptions  as  their  results,  these  can  also  be  regarded 


f  6§]  LOGIC.  837 

as  natural  standards  of  truth,  so  that  Chrysippus  could 
speak  of  aiadrja-if  and  -rrp6\^i,s  as  criteria.1  But  the 
possibility  of  knowledge  is  proved  by  the  Stoics  in  the 
last  resort  by  the  assertion  that  otherwise  no  action 
with  rational  conviction  is  possible.  Yet  they  involved 
themselves  in  the  contradiction  that  on  the  one  hand 
they  made  perception  the  standard  of  truth,  and  on 
the  other  looked  for  perfectly  certain  knowledge  from 
science  only.  This,  indeed,  not  only  corresponded  to 
their  scientific  requirements,  bat  to  the  practical  de- 
mands of  a  system  which  made  the  virtue  and  happiness 
of  men  depend  on  their  subordination  to  a  universal  law. 
The  part  of  '  dialectic '  which  corresponds  to  our 
formal  logic  has  to  do  with  what  is  signified  or  ex- 
pressed (\EKTOV\  and  this  is  either  complete  or  incom- 
plete ;  the  first  form  concepts,  the  second  propositions. 
The  most  important  of  the  determinations  of  the  con- 
cepts is  the  doctrine  of  categories.  The  Stoics  had 
only  four  categories  in  the  place  of  the  Aristotelian  ten. 
These  four  were  related  to  each  other  in  such  a  manner 
that  each  succeeding  one  is  a  closer  determination  of 
that  which  precedes,  and  therefore  comprises  it.  They 
are  substratum  (yTroKelp.svov,  also  ovala)  ;  property  (TO 
TTOIOI/  or  6  Trotos,  sc.  Xo7os),  which  again  subdivides 
into  Kon'Ms  TIOIOV  and  ISiws  TTOIOI/;  quality  (TTW* 
g^oi'),  and  related  quality  (irpos  ri  7r&>y  exw)*  ^he 
general  concept  under  which  all  the  categories  come  is 

1  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  im-  and  Cleanthes,    and  as  regards 

probable  that  the  statement  that  Zeno  it  cannot  be    harmonised 

some  of  the  old^r  Stoics   made  with  Sext.  Math.  vii.  150  ff.,  Cio 

the    Jptt*    A<f7oj    the    criterion  Acad.  ii.  24.  77,  L  11.  4* 
(Pios?    vii    51)   refers  to    Zeno 


238  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  [§  M 

by  some  considered  Being  (probably  Zeno) ;  by  others 
(Chrysippus)  Something  (rl).  This  Something  is  again 
divided  into  Being  and  Not-being.  Among  complete 
assertions  or  propositions,  judgments  or  statements 
(dgiw/jLara)  are  those  which  are  either  true  or  false 
The  Stoics  distinguished  simple  (categoric)  and  com- 
pound judgments,  and  among  the  latter  they  treated 
hypothetical  judgments  with  especial  care.  In  their 
treatment  of  conclusions  also,  they  gave  such  prominence 
to  the  hypothetical  and  disjunctive  that  they  only  were 
to  be  regarded  as  conclusions  in  the  proper  sense.  But 
the  scientific  value  of  this  Stoic  logic  is  very  slight,  and 
if  in  details  it  enters  here  and  there  into  more  precise 
inquiry,  the  pedantic  external  formalism,  which  Chrys- 
ippus especially  introduced  into  logic,  could  not  be  of 
advantage  to  the  general  condition  of  the  science. 

§  69.     The  Stoic  Physics ;  the  Ultimate  Basis,  and 
the  Universe. 

The  view  which  the  Stoics  took  of  the  world  is 
governed  by  a  triple  tendency.  In  opposition  to  the 
dualism  of  the  Platonic  and  Aristotelian  metaphysics, 
it  aims  at  the  unity  of  the  final  cause,  and  the  order 
of  the  world  which  proceeded  from  it :  it  is  monistic. 
In  contrast  to  their  idealism,  it  is  realistic  and  even 
materialistic.  Nevertheless,  they  regarded  everything 
in  the  world  as  the  work  of  reason,  as  their  ethics  de- 
manded, and  the  final  basis  of  the  world  was  absolute 
reason.  Their  point  of  view  is  essentially  teleological 
and  theological,  and  their  Monism  becomes  a  Fan- 
theism  (cf.  p.  233). 


1 6»1  PHYSICS.  839 

In  the  doctrine  of  the  Stoics  only  bodies  are  a 
reality.  That  was  real,  they  urged,  which  is  active 
or  passive,  but  this  property  is  only  found  in  bodies. 
Hence  they  not  only  explained  a)l  substances,  without 
excluding  the  human  soul  and  the  Deity,  as  bodies,  but 
all  properties  of  things  were  also  regarded  as  existing  ID 
something  corporeal,  in  the  currents  of  air  (Trvsv^aTa^ 
by  which  they  are  spread  abroad,  and  from  which  they 
receive  the  tension  (rovos)  which  keeps  them  together. 
As  this  naturally  holds  good  of  the  soul-bodies  also, 
the  virtues,  affections,  wisdom,  walking,  &c.,  as  condi- 
tions of  the  soul,  are  called  bodies  and  living  beings. 
That  empty  space,  place,  time,  and  the  notion  in  the 
mind  (XS/CTOI/,  cf.  p.  237),  were  not  to  be  regarded  as 
bodies  was  only  an  inconsistency,  though,  it  is  true, 
an  unavoidable  one.  In  order  to  be  able  to  explain 
from  this  point  of  view  the  fact  that  the  soul  permeates 
the  body  through  its  whole  extent,  and  the  properties 
of  things  the  things  to  which  they  belong,  the  Stoics, 
in  their  doctrine  of  the  Kpaais  St'  oX&>z>,  denied  the 
impenetrability  of  bodies.  They  maintained  that  one 
body  could  penetrate  another  in  all  its  parts  without 
becoming  one  material  with  it.  Yet,  in  spite  of  their 
materialism,  the  Stoics  distinguished  between  the 
material  and  the  forces  at  work  in  it.  The  first  taken 
by  itself  they  regarded  as  without  properties,  and 
derived  all  properties  of  things  from  the  rational  power 
(\6yos)  which  penetrates  them.  Even  the  filling  up 
of  space  was  derived  from  two  movements,  one  causing 
condensation,  the  other  rarefaction,  one  proceeding 
inward,  the  other  outward.  But  all  the  powers  opera- 


340  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  [9  <» 

ting  in  the  world  come  from  one  original  power,  as  is 
proved  by  the  unity  of  the  world,  the  combination  and 
harmony  of  all  its  parts.  Like  all  that  is  real,  this  also 
must  be  corporeal,  and  is  regarded  more  precisely  as 
warm  vapour  (irvsvpa},  or  fire,  for  it  is  warmth  which 
begets,  enlivens,  and  moves  all  things.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  perfection  of  the  world  and  the  adapta- 
tion of  means  to  ends,  and  more  especially  the  rational 
element  in  human  nature,  shows  that  this  final  cause  of 
the  world  must  at  the  same  time  be  the  most  perfect 
reason,  the  kindest,  most  philanthropic  nature — in  a 
word,  the  Deity.  It  is  this  just  because  it  consists  of 
the  most  perfect  material.  As  everything  in  the 
world  is  indebted  to  it  for  its  properties,  its  movement 
and  life,  it  must  stand  to  the  universe  in  the  same 
relation  as  our  soul  to  our  body.  It  penetrates  all  things 
as  the  irvsvfia,  or  artistic  fire  (irvp  rs^viicov)^  enlivening 
them,  and  containing  their  germs  in  itself  (\6yot, 
fftrepfiariKoC).  It  is  the  soul,  the  spirit  (i/oOs),  the 
reason  (\6yos)  of  the  world,  Providence,  destiny, 
nature,  universal  law,  &c. ;  for  all  these  conceptions 
denote  the  same  object  from  various  sides.  But  as  in 
the  soul  of  man,  though  it  is  present  in  the  whole 
body,  the  governing  part  is  separate  from  the  rest,  and 
a  special  seat  is  assigned  to  it,  so  also  in  the  soul  of 
the  universe.  The  Deity  or  Zeus  has  his  seat  in  the 
uttermost  circle  of  the  world  (according  to  Arched  emus 
in  the  centre,  and  to  Clean thes  in  the  sun),  from 
whence  he  spreads  himself  through  the  world.  But 
yet  his  distinction  from  the  world  is  relative — the  dis- 
tinction between  what  is  directly  and  what  is  indirectly 


§ »]  PHYSICS.  241 

divine.  In  themselves  both  are  the  same;  there  is 
but  one  and  the  same  being,  of  which  a  part  takes  the 
form  of  the  world,  while  another  part  retains  its  original 
shape,  and  in  that  shape  confronts  the  first  as  the 
operative  cause  or  the  Deity.  Even  this  distinction  of 
appearance  is  transitory;  it  has  arisen  in  time,  and 
in  time  it  will  pass  away. 

In  order  to  form  the  world  the  Deity  changed  the 
fiery  vapour,  of  which  it  consists,  first  into  air,  then 
into  water,  in  which  it  was  immanent  as  a  formative 
power  (\6yos  (TTrsp/j-aTtKoi).  From  the  water,  beneath 
its  operation,  a  part  was  precipitated  as  earth ;  another 
part  remained  water,  a  third  became  air,  and  out  of 
air,  by  still  further  rarefaction,  was  kindled  the  ele- 
mentary fire.  Thus  was  formed  the  body  of  the  world 
in  distinction  to  its  soul,  the  Deity.  But  as  this 
opposition  has  arisen  in  time,  so  with  time  it  passes  away. 
When  the  course  of  the  present  world  has  come  to  an 
end,  a  conflagration  will  change  everything  into  a 
monstrous  mass  of  fiery  vapour.  Zeus  receives  the 
world  back  again  into  himself  in  order  to  emit  it  again 
at  a  preordained  time  (cf.  p.  69  ff.).  Hence  the 
history  of  the  world  and  the  Deity  moves  in  an  endless 
circle  between  the  formation  and  the  destruction  of 
the  world.  As  these  always  follow  the  same  law. 
the  innumerable  successive  worlds  are  all  so  exactly 
similar,  that  in  every  one  the  same  persons,  things, 
and  events  occur,  down  to  the  minutest  details,  as 
are  found  in  all  the  rest.  For  an  inexorable  necessity, 
a  strong  connecting  chain  of  cause  and  effect  governs 
all  events.  In  such  a  strictly  pantheistic  system 


242  TEE  STOIC  SCHOOL. 

this  is  thoroughly  consistent,  and  it  is  also 
in  the  Stoic  definition  of  fate  or  destiny,  of  nature 
and  providence.  Even  the  human  will  makes  no 
exception  in  this  respect.  Man  acts  voluntarily,  in 
so  far  as  it  is  his  own  impulse  (opfjuj}  which  moves  him ; 
even  that  which  fate  ordains,  he  can  do  voluntarily,  i.e. 
with  his  own  assent ;  but  do  ft  he  must  under  any 
circumstances :  volentem  fata  ducunt,  nolentem  tra- 
hunt.  On  this  connection  of  all  things  (a-vfiirdOeui 
ra>v  o\o)v)  rests  the  unity,  and  on  the  rationality  of 
the  cause  from  which  it  proceeds,  rest  the  beauty  and 
perfection  of  the  world  ;  and  the  more  eagerly  the 
Stoics  strove  to  establish  their  belief  in  Providence  by 
proofs  of  every  kind,  the  less  could  they  renounce  the 
duty  of  proving  the  universal  perfection  of  the  world, 
and  defending  it  against  the  objections  to  which  the 
numerous  evils  existing  in  it  gave  rise.  Chrysippus 
appears  to  have  been  the  chief  author  of  this  physical 
theology  and  theodicy.  But  we  also  know  of  him  that 
he  carried  out  the  proposition  that  the  world  was  made 
for  gods  and  men  with  the  pettiest  and  most  super- 
ficial teleology.  Even  if  the  leading  idea  of  the  Stoic 
theodicy,  that  the  imperfection  of  the  individual 
subserves  the  perfection  of  the  whole,  has  formed  a 
pattern  for  all  later  attempts  of  a  similar  kind,  yet 
the  task  of  uniting  moral  evil  with  their  theological 
determinism  was  for  the  Stoics  the  more  difficult, 
owing  to  the  blackness  of  the  coloiirs  in  which  they 
were  accustomed  to  define  the  extent  and  power  of 
this  evil. 


§70]  NATURE  AND  MAN.  948 

§  70.  N'ature  and  Man. 

In  their  doctrine  of  nature  the  Stoics  adhered  less 
closely  to  Heracleitus  than  to  Aristotlej  as  was  inevitable 
in  the  existing  state  of  knowledge.  Leaving  out  of  sight 
some  subordinate  deviations  they  followed  Aristotle  in 
their  doctrine  of  the  four  elements,  and  if  they  found 
it  necessary  to  establish  the  aether  as  a  fifth  body  beside 
them,  they  made  no  distinction  between  the  ethereal 
and  the  earthly  fire.  The  first  moved  in  circles,  the 
second  in  straight  lines  (cf.  p.  198).  The  Stoics  again 
and  again  insisted  that  all  elementary  matters  constantly- 
passed  one  into  another,  that  all  things  were  to  be  con- 
ceived in  perpetual  change,  and  on  this  rested  the  con- 
nection of  the  world.  For  this  reason  it  was  not  their 
object  to  deny  the  fixed  condition  of  things  as  Hera- 
cleitus did,  or  with  Aristotle  to  limit  this  change  to  the 
world  beneath  the  moon  (cf.  p.  200). 

In  their  views  on  the  structure  of  the  universe  they 
adhered  to  the  prevailing  notions.  They  regarded  the 
stars  as  fixed  in  their  spheres ;  their  fire  was  nurtured 
by  exhalations  from  the  earth  and  the  waters ;  their 
divinity  and  rationality  were  derived  from  the  purity  of 
this  fire.  The  whole  realm  of  nature  is  divided  into 
four  classes ;  which  are  distinguished  in  such  a  manner 
that  inorganic  things  are  kept  together  by  a  simple 
e£ts,  plants  by  <j>v(ns,  animals  by  a  soul,  men  by  a 
rational  soul. 

Among  these  creatures  man  only  has  a  higher 
interest  for  our  philosophers,  and  in  man  the  souL 
The  soul,  like  all  that  is  real,  has  a  corporeal  nature ; 


244  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  [*  70 

it  comes  into  being  with  the  body  in  the  physical 
mode  of  generation  ;  but  the  material  is  the  purest  and 
noblest,  a  part  of  the  divine  fire  which  descended  into 
the  bodies  of  men  when  they  first  arose  out  of  the 
aether,  and  passes  from  the  parents  to  the  children  as  an 
offshoot  of  their  souls.  This  fire  of  the  soul  is  nourished 
by  the  blood,  and  the  governing  part  of  the  soul  (the 
fjys/jioviKov)  has  its  seat  in  the  heart,  the  centre  of  the 
course  of  the  blood  (according  to  Zeno,  Cleanthes, 
Chrysippus,  &c.,  from  whom  only  a  few  authors  deviate). 
From  hence  seven  offshoots  spread  out,  viz.  the  five 
senses,  the  power  of  speech  and  of  procreation,  to  their 
corresponding  organs.  But  the  seat  of  personality  lies 
only  in  the  governing  part  or  reason,  to  which  belong 
both  the  lower  and  the  higher  activities  of  soul,  and  in 
its  power  lies  the  assent  to  conceptions,  as  well  as  to 
conclusions  of  will — both  only  in  the  sense  which  the 
Stoic  determinism  allows  (cf.  p.  242 ).  After  death,  all 
souls,  according  to  Cleanthes,  but  according  to  Chrysippus 
only  those  who  had  obtained  the  necessary  force,  the  souls 
of  the  wise,  continue  till  the  end  of  the  world,  in  order 
to  return  at  that  time  into  the  Deity.  But  the  limited 
duration  of  this  continued  life  did  not  deter  the  Stoics, 
and  Seneca  especially,  from  describing  the  blessedness 
of  the  higher  life  after  death  in  colours  not  unlike 
those  of  Plato  and  the  Christian  theologians. 

§  71.  The  Stoic  Ethics  :  their  general  traits. 

If  everything  obeys  the  laws  of  the  universe,  man 
only  is  qualified  by  his  reason  to  know  them  and 
follow  them  consciously.  This  is  the  leading  thought 


1 71]  ETHICS.  245 

of  the  Stoic  doctrine  of  Ethics.  Their  supreme  prin- 
ciple is  in  general  the  life  according  to  nature — O/AO\O- 
yov/Msvats  Ty  <f>v<rsi  £#z>.  That  this  principle  was  not 
thus  formulated  till  the  successors  of  Zeno,  while  he 
required  only  ofjboXoyov/Asvws  £fjv,  the  life  consistent 
with  itself  (Arius  Did.  in  -Stob.  *  Eel.'  ii.  132),  is  the 
more  improbable  as  Diog.  vii.  87  definitely  states  the 
contrary,  and  even  Polerno,  Zeno's  teacher,  had  re- 
quired a  life  according  to  nature  (p.  169).  If  Clearithes 
named  the  nature  to  which  our  lives  are  to  correspond 
tcoivrj  <j>vcris,  and  Chrysippus  called  it  universal  and 
more  especially  human  nature,  the  correction  is  chiefly 
verbal.  The  most  universal  impulse  of  nature  is  in 
every  creature  the  impulse  to  self-preservation ;  only 
what  serves  this  end  can  have  a  value  (a%ia)  and  con- 
tribute to  its  happiness  ( svSaipovla,  svpoLa  fiiov).  Hence 
for  a  rational  being  that  only  has  a  value  which  is  in 
accordance  with  nature ;  for  it  virtue  only  is  a  good, 
and  in  virtue  alone  consists  its  happiness,  which  con- 
sequently is  not  connected  with  any  further  condition 
(virtue  is  avrdpKrjs  vrpbs  rrjv  svSaifiovlav).  Conversely, 
the  only  evil  is  vice  (xatcla}.  All  else  is  indifferent 
(aSidfopov) ;  life,  health,  honour,  possessions,  &c.,  are 
not  goods ;  death,  sickness,  contempt,  poverty,  &c.,  are 
not  evils.  Least  of  all  can  pleasure  be  considered  a  good, 
or  the  highest  good,  and  sought  for  its  own  sake. 
Pleasure  is  a  consequence  of  our  activity,  if  this  is  of  the 
right  kind  (for  doing  right  ensures  the  only  true  satis- 
faction), but  it  can  never  be  its  aim.  If  all  Stoics  did 
not  go  so  far  as  Cleanthes,  who  would  not  have  pleasure 
reckoned  among  things  according  to  nature,  yet  all 


246  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  C§  ?l 

denied  that  it  had  any  value  by  itself,  For  this  reason 
they  sought  the  special  happiness  of  the  virtuous  man 
in  freedom  from  disturbance,  in  repose  of  spirit,  and 
inward  independence.  As  virtue  alone  has  a  value  for 
men,  the  effort  to  attain  it  is  the  most  universal  law  of 
his  nature.  This  conception  of  law  and  duty  is  more 
prominent  among  the  Stoics  than  among  earlier  moral 
philosophers.  But  as  the  rational  impulses  are  accom- 
panied in  man  with  irrational  and  unmeasured  im- 
pulses or  passions l  (which  Zeno  reduced  to  four  main 
passions — pleasure,  desire,  anxiety,  and  fear),  the  Stoic 
virtue  is  essentially  a  battle  with  the  passions ;  they 
are  an  irrational  and  morbid  element  (appa)a-r^fj.araf 
and  if  they  become  habitual,  vo<roi  tyvxrjs)  ;  they  must 
not  only  be  regulated  (as  the  Academicians  and  Peri- 
patetics wished)  but  eradicated.  Our  duty  is  to  attain 
apathy,  or  freedom  from  passions.  In  opposition  to 
the  passions,  virtue  consists  in  the  rational  quality  of 
the  soul.  The  first  condition  is  a  right  notion  in 
regard  to  our  conduct  ;  virtue,  therefore,  is  called 
knowledge,  and  want  of  virtue  want  of  knowledge. 
But  with  this  knowledge,  in  the  mind  of  the  Stoics, 
strength  of  mind  and  will  (TOVOS,  evTovia,  ar^vs, 
Kpdros),  on  which  Clean thes  especially  laid  weight,  is 
so  directly  connected  that  the  essence  of  virtue  can  be 
equally  well  found  in  it.  Zeno  considered  insight 
(<f>p6vr)ffi$)  to  be  the  common  root  of  all  virtues; 
Cleanthes,  strength  t>f  soul ;  Aristo,  health.  From  the 
time  of  Chrysippus  it  is  usual  to  seek  it  in  wisdom 
(<ro<f>la)  as  the  science  of  divine  and  human  things 
1  HdOis,  defined  as  &\oyos  tyvxns  K/VT/O-IJ,  or  &P/J.T] 


|T1]  ETHICS.  247 

From  wisdom  four  cardinal  virtues  were  thought  to 
arise,  which  were  in  their  turn  variously  divided  :  in- 
sight, bravery,  self-control  ((raxfrpovvvr)),  and  justice. 
Cleanthes,  however,  put  endurance  (eyKpdrsia)  in  the 
place  of  insight.  According  to  Aristo  (and  in  realitj 
according  to  Cleanthes  also),  the  different  virtues  are 
distinguished  only  by  the  Objects  in  which  they  express 
themselves ;  but  Chrysippus  and  later  writers  assume 
internal  and  qualitative  differences  between  them. 
Yet  they  adhered  to  the  principle  that  as  expressions  of 
one  and  the  same  feeling  they  were  indissolubly  con- 
nected ;  where  one  virtue  is,  of  necessity  all  must  be ; 
and  similarly  where  one  vice  is,  all  must  be.  Hence  all 
virtues  are  equal  in  merit,  all  vices  in  depravity.  It  is, 
in  fact,  merely  a  matter  of  feeling ;  this  alone  makes  the 
fulfilment  of  duty  (xaOrjteov)  a  virtuous  action  («ar- 
6p6(i)/j,a) ;  the  form  in  which  it  is  expressed  is  in- 
different. This  feeling,  according  to  the  Stoic  belief, 
must  be  altogether  presenter  not  present  at  all.  Virtue 
and  vice  are  qualities  which  admit  of  no  difference  of 
degree  (Siadsa-sis — not  merely  s^sis] ;  there  is  nothing 
intermediate  between  them  ;  no  man  can  possess  them 
in  part ;  he  must  either  have  them  or  be  without 
them  ;  he  must  be  virtuous  or  vicious,  a  sage  or  a  fool, 
and  therefore  the  change  from  folly  to  wisdom  is 
momentary  j  while  proficients  (trpoKOTrrovrei)^  men  are 
still  fools.  The  wise  man  is  the  ideal  of  all  perfec- 
tion, and  as  this  is  the  only  condition  of  happiness, 
he  is  the  ideal  of  all  happiness,  while  the  fool  is 
the  pattern  of  all  vice  and  misery.  The  first,  as 
the  Stoics  set  forth  with  declamatory  pathos,  ifl 


848  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  l$?l 

alone  free,  alone  beautiful,  rich,  happy,  &c.  He 
possesses  all  virtues  and  all  knowledge ;  in  all  things 
he  does  what  is  right  and  he  alone  does  it ;  he  is  the 
only  real  king,  statesman,  poet,  prophet,  pilot,  &c. 
He  is  entirely  free  from  needs  and  sorrows,  and  the 
only  friend  of  the  gods.  His  virtue  is  a  possession 
which  cannot  be  lost  (or  at  most,  as  Chrysippus  allows, 
through  disease  of  mind) ;  his  happiness  is  like  that  of 
Zeus,  and  cannot  be  increased  by  duration.  The  fool, 
on  his  part,  is  thoroughly  bad  and  miserable,  a  slave, 
a  beggar,  a  blockhead ;  he  cannot  do  what  is  right,  or 
anything  that  is  not  wrong  ;  all  fools  are  lunatics  (jras 
d^pcov  fjLaiverai).  But,  in  the  belief  of  the  Stoics,  all 
men,  with  few  exceptions,  and  those  rapidly  disappear- 
ing, are  fools.  Even  to  the  most  celebrated  statesmen 
and  heroes  at  most  the  inconsistent  concession  is  made 
that  they  are  afflicted  with  the  common  vices  of  man- 
kind to  a  less  degree  than  other  people. 

In  all  this  the  Stoics  are  essentially  followers  of 
the  principles  of  Cynicism,  with  the  alterations  which 
arose  from  the  more  scientific  establishment  and  expo- 
sition of  their  principles.  Yet  Zeno  could  not  hide 
from  himself  that  these  doctrines  required  considerable 
limitations  and  modifications.  These  modifications 
were  not  only  the  condition  on  which  they  could  pass 
beyond  the  narrow  limits  of  a  sect,  and  become  an 
historical  power;  they  arose  out  of  the  common  pre- 
suppositions of  the  Stoic  ethics.  A  system  which 
in  practice  recognised  harmony  with  nature,  and  in 
theory  universal  conviction,  as  the  standard,  could  not 
place  itself  in  such  striking  contradiction  to  either,  aa 


1 71]  ETHICS.  849 

Antisthenes  and  Diogenes  had  done  without  scruple. 
Hence,  in  the  doctrine  of  goods,  three  classes  are  dis- 
tinguished among  morally  indifferent  things;  those 
which  are  according  to  nature  and  therefore  have  a 
value  (a%ia)  being  desirable  and  preferable  (trpor)y^va) 
in  themselves ;  those  which  are  against  nature,  and 
therefore  without  value  (diragia)  and  to  be  avoided 
(aTroTrpoijvpeva) ;  and  finally  those  which  have  neither 
merit  nor  demerit,  the  d&idfopa  in  the  narrower  sense. 
Aristo,  who  contested  this  division,  and  saw  the 
mission  of  man  (reXoy)  in  entire  indifference  to  goods, 
by  thus  returning  from  Zeno  to  Antisthenes  drew 
upon  himself  the  reproach  that  he  made  all  action  on 
principle  impossible.  Herillus,  it  is  true,  deviated 
from  Zeno  in  maintaining  that  a  part  of  things  morally 
indifferent,  though  it  could  not  be  referred  to  the 
final  object  of  life  (r£\o$),  could  yet  form  a  subordinate 
and  separate  object  (t/TroreXi's).  Only  by  this  modifica- 
tion of  their  doctrine  of  goods  was  it  possible  for  the 
Stoics  to  gain  a  positive  relation  to  the  purposes  of 
practical  life,  but  it  cannot  be  denied  that  they  fre- 
quently made  a  use  of  it  which  it  is  impossible  to  har- 
monise with  the  strictness  of  the  Stoic  principles.  In 
connection  with  the  relation  to  what  is  desirable  or  the 
reverse  stood  the  conditioned  or  '  intermediate '  duties 
(fts&a  Ka6iJKOvra),  which  are  distinguished  from  the 
perfect  (KaropOdifiara).  In  all  these  it  is  a  ques- 
tion of  rules  which  lose  their  force  under  certain 
circumstances.  As,  moreover,  a  relative  valuation  of 
certain  dSidfopa  is  allowed  and  even  required,  so  also 
is  the  apathy  of  the  wise  man  softened  to  the  degree 


250  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  [$  71 

that  it  is  allowed  that  the  beginnings  of  the  passions 
are  found  even  in  him,  though  they  do  not  win  his  absent, 
and  certain  rational  emotions  (einrdOsiat)  are  found  in 
him  only.  Finally,  the  less  that  the  Stoics  ventured 
to  name  any  one  in  their  midst  a  wise  man,  the  more 
doubtfully  that  many  among  them  expressed  themselves 
in  this  respect  with  regard  to  Socrates  and  Diogenes, 
the  more  unavoidable  was  it  that  the  men  who  were 
*  Proficients '  should  find  a  place  in  ever  increasing 
importance  between  the  fools  and  the  wise,  until  at 
length  they  are  hardly  distinguishable  from  the  wise 
in  the  Stoic  descriptions. 

§  72.  Continuation.    Applied  Morals.     The  Relation 
of  Stoicism  to  Religion. 

If  discussions  on  separate  moral  relations  and 
duties  occupy  universally  a  large  space  in  the  post- 
Aristotelian  period,  the  Stoics  (with  the  exception  of 
Aristo,  cf.  p.  233)  are  more  especially  inclined  to  them. 
They  appear  to  have  had  a  peculiar  predilection  for 
the  casuistical  questions  to  which  the  collision  of 
duties  gives  rise.  Important  as  discussions  of  this 
kind  were  for  the  practical  influence  of  Stoic  ethics, 
.ind  for  the  spread  of  purer  moral  conceptions,  their 
scientific  value  was  not  very  great,  and  the  treatment 
appears  at  times  to  have  been  very  trivial.  So  far  as  we 
know  them,  they  are  characterised  by  a  double  effort  • 
on  the  one  hand,  they  tend  to  make  the  individual  in- 
dependent of  everything  external  in  his  moral  self- 
certainty;  on  the  other,  to  be  just  to  the  duties  which 
arise  out  of  his  relation  to  the  greater  whole  of  which 


§  72]  ETHICS.  861 

he  it  a  part.  In  the  first  sphere  lie  the  trails  which 
mark  Stoicism  as  a  descendant  of  Cynicism ;  in  the 
second,  those  by  which  it  surpassed  and  supplemented 
Cynicism.  Perfect  independence  of  everything  which 
does  not  influence  our  moral  nature,  elevation  above 
external  relations  and  bodily  conditions,  the  self-suffi- 
ciency of  the  wise,  the  freedom  from  needs  such  as 
Diogenes  enjoyed,  is  also  an  ideal  of  the  Stoics.  If  the 
cynical  mode  of  life  is  not  generally  required,  yet  it  is 
found  worthy  of  the  philosopher  in  case  circumstances 
allow  it.  The  principle  that  the  moral  character  of  actions 
depends  only  on  the  feelings,  and  not  on  the  external 
act,  misled  the  Stoics,  as  it  misled  their  predecessors, 
into  many  strange  and  one-sided  assertions,  though  the 
most  repellent  objections  brought  against  them  in  this 
respect  are  in  part  purely  hypothetical,  and  in  part 
appear  to  have  been  put  forward  as  a  deduction  from 
views  which  they  controverted.  Finally,  in  order  to 
secure  for  men  their  independence  under  any  circum- 
stances, they  permitted  voluntary  departure  from  life 
(igaywyij).  This  was  not  only  a  refuge  from  extreme 
distress,  but  they  saw  in  it  the  noblest  preservation  of 
moral  freedom,  a  step  by  which  a  man  proved  that  he 
regarded  life  among  things  indifferent,  and  which  he 
is  justified  in  taking  whenever  circumstances  make  it 
appear  to  be  more  in  accordance  with  nature  that  he 
should  leave  his  earthly  life  than  remain  in  it.  Zeno, 
Clean thes,  Eratosthenes,  Antipater,  and  many  other 
Stoics,  ended  their  lives  in  this  manner. 

Independently  as  the  Stoic  confronted  everything 
which  is  not  himself,  he  nevertheless  felt  himself  closelv 


252  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  [f  7§ 

connected  with  his  kind.  By  virtue  of  his  rationality 
man  feels  himself  a  part  of  the  universal  whole,  and  he  is 
thus  pledged  to  work  for  this  whole  ;  he  knows  that  he 
is  naturally  akin  to  all  rational  beings,  looks  on  them 
all  as  homogeneous  and  having  equal  rights,  and  stand- 
ing under  the  same  laws  of  nature  and  reason  ;  and  he 
regards  it  as  their  natural  aim  to  live  for  one  another. 
Thus  the  impulse  to  society  is  founded  immediately  on 
human  nature,  which  requires  the  two  primary  condi- 
tions of  society,  justice  and  humanity.  Not  merely 
all  wise  men,  the  Stoics  say,  are  friends  by  nature,  they 
ascribe  universally  so  high  a  value  to  friendship  that 
they  do  not  succeed  in  bringing  their  principles  of  the 
self-sufficiency  of  the  wise  entirely  into  harmony  with 
this  need  of  friendship.  All  the  other  connections  of 
men  are  also  recognised  by  them  as  having  a  moral  im- 
portance. They  recommend  marriage,  and  would  have  it 
carried  out  in  a  pure  and  moral  spirit.  If  they  could  not 
take  any  hearty  part  in  politics,  yet  in  the  philosophical 
schools  of  later  antiquity  it  was  the  Stoics  who  occupied 
themselves  most  minutely  with  the  duties  of  civio 
life,  and  who  trained  the  largest  number  of  indepen- 
dent political  characters.  In  their  view,  it  is  true,  the 
connection  of  a  man  with  the  whole  of  humanity  was 
more  important  than  the  connection  of  the  individual 
with  his  nation.  Cosmopolitanism  took  the  place  of 
politics,  and  of  this  the  Stoics  were  the  most  zealous 
and  successful  prophets.  Since  it  is  the  similarity  of 
reason  in  the  individuals  on  which  all  community  among 
men  rests,  the  two  must  be  co-extensive.  All  men  are 
akin.  They  have  all  a  similar  origin  and  the  same 


571J  ETHICS.  253 

mission.  All  stand  under  one  law,  are  citizens  of 
one  state,  members  of  one  body.  All  men  as  men 
have  a  claim  to  our  beneficence.  Even  slaves  can 
claim  their  rights  at  our  hands,  and  show  themselves 
worthy  of  our  respect.  Even  to  our  enemies  we,  as 
men,  owe  clemency  and  ready  support.  This  last  point 
is  often  and  earnestly  insisted  upon  among  the  Stoics 
of  the  Roman  times. 

When  this  connection  of  all  rational  beings  is  carried 
further  we  attain  to  the  conception  of  the  world  as  a 
community  consisting  of  gods  and  men.1  To  the  laws 
and  arrangements  of  this  community  unconditional 
subjection  is  demanded.  It  is  in  this  obedience  to 
the  laws  of  the  universe,  and  submission  to  destiny. 
upon  which  the  Stoics  are  never  weary  of  insisting, 
that  the  essential  part  of  religion  lies  from  their  point 
of  view.  Piety  is  the  knowledge  of  the  worship  of  the 
gods  (i7ri(rTi]/j,r)  Qswv  OspaTTsias,  Diog.  vii.  119  ;  Stob. 
*  Eel.'  ii.  106).  But  in  its  essence  worship  of  the  gods 
consists  in  correct  notions  about  them,  in  obedience  to 
their  will,  and  imitation  of  their  perfection  (Sen.  *  Ep.' 
95.  47,  Epict.  'Man.'  31.  1),  in  purity  of  heart  and 
will  (Cic.  «  N.  D.'  ii.  28,  71  ;  Sen.  '  Fr.'  123)  ;  in  a  word, 
in  wisdom  and  virtue.  True  religion  is  not  dis- 
tinguished from  philosophy.  With  regard  to  anything 
further  which  was  contained  in  the  national  religion  the 
Stoics  had  much  to  say.  The  impropriety  of  the  an- 
thropomorphic belief  in  deities,  the  unworthy  character  of 


Chrysippas)  :  WA.IJ  f 
wtav   xal   rwv  fvtxa.    rovrcav    yryo-     e'£  au/Qpanrw  rt  «co2  Ofcaf  (Mason 
^rfr«r    (Diog.    vii.     138;    Stob.    ap.  Stob.  '  FloriL'  40.  9> 
•  Ed.'  i  444  after  Poridonius  and 


254  THE  STOIC  SCHOOL.  §  "J2] 

the  mythical  narratives  about  gods  and  heroes,  the  inanity 
of  the  traditional  ceremonies,  are  condemned  from  the 
time  of  Zeno  by  older  and  younger  members  of  the 
school,  and  by  no  one  more  severely  than  Seneca  of 
the  authors  known  to  us.  Yet  the  Stoics  as  a  whole 
are  not  opponents,  but  defenders  of  the  national  religion, 
partly,  as  it  seems,  because  they  find  a  proof  of  its  truth 
in  its  general  recognition,  partly  and  more  especially 
because  they  were  unwilling  to  withdraw  from  the  mass 
of  men  a  support  of  morality  which  for  them  was 
indispensable.  Philosophical  theology  was  thought  to 
form  the  proper  contents  of  mythology.  In  the  gods 
of  mythology  the  one  god  of  the  Stoics  was  to  be 
worshipped  directly  or  indirectly;  directly  under  the 
form  of  Zeus,  and  indirectly  under  the  form  of  the  other 
gods  so  far  as  these  are  nothing  but  representatives  of 
divine  powers,  which  manifest  themselves  to  us  in  the 
stars,  the  elements,  the  fruits  of  the  earth,  in  great 
men  and  benefactors  of  mankind.  The  means  adopted 
by  the  Stoics  to  prove  this  philosophic  truth  (^va-ttcos 
\6yos)  in  the  myths  was  allegorical  interpretation. 
Hitherto  this  mode  of  interpretation  is  only  found  in 
isolated  instances ;  but  by  the  Stoics,  and  so  far  as  we 
know  by  Zeno,  it  was  made  into  a  system,  while 
Cleanthes  and  Chrysippus  applied  it  to  such  an  extent 
and  with  such  incredible  caprice  and  tastelessness,  that 
they  could  hardly  be  surpassed  in  this  respect  by  their 
successors  on  heathen,  Jewish,  and  Christian  ground. 
Prophecy,  to  which  they  ascribed  the  greatest  value,  was 
treated  in  the  same  spirit  by  Zeno,  Cleanthes,  Sphaenis, 
and  especially  by  Chrysippus  and  his  successors. 


i  72]  RELIGION.  256 

What  was  irrational  was  artificially  rationalised ;  by 
means  of  the  interconnection  of  all  things  (o-vfjiTrddsia, 
p.  242),  future  events  could  be  announced  by  certain 
natural  signs  which  could  be  known  and  explained 
partly 'through  natural  gifts  arising  from  the  relation- 
ship of  God  and  man,  and  partly  through  scientific 
observation.  No  narrative  of  fulfilled  predictions  was 
so  marvellous  or  poorly  supported  that  it  could  not  be 
justified  in  this  manner.  Hence  the  Stoics,  perhaps 
before  Panaetius,  distinguished  a  triple  theology :  that 
of  the  philosophers,  that  of  the  statesmen,  and  that  of 
the  poets;  and  against  the  last,  which  is  in  truth 
nothing  but  the  mythology  of  the  national  religion, 
they  brought  the  most  serious  objections.  Yet  this 
did  not  deter  them  from  repressing  vigorously  any 
serious  attack  on  the  popular  religion.  This  is  proved 
by  Cleanthes'  relation  to  Aristarchus  of  Samos,  and  the 
severity  of  Marcus  Aurelius  towards  the  Christians. 

II.   THE  EPICUREAN    PHILOSOPHY. 
§  73.  Epicurus  and  his  School. 

Epicurus,  the  son  of  Neocles  the  Athenian,  waa 
born  in  Samos  in  December  342  or  January  341  B.C. 
Introduced  to  the  doctrine  of  Democritus  by  Nausi- 
phanes,  and  instructed  by  Pamphilus  the  Platonist,  he 
came  forward  as  a  teacher  in  Colophon,  Mitylene,  and 
Lampsacus,  and  after  306  B.C.  in  Athens.  Here  his 
garden  was  the  meeting-place  of  a  circle  which  was  fillei 
with  fehe  deepest  admiration  for  Epicurus  and  his  teach- 
ing, and  united  intimate  social  intercourse  with  philo- 


256  THE  EPICUREAN  SCHOOL.  [f  73 

sophic  studies.  Women  as  well  as  men  belonged  to 
it.  His  doctrines  were  embodied  in  a  number  of 
treatises,  to  the  style  of  which  he  devoted  little  care.1 
When  he  died,  in  270  B.C.,  Hermarchus  undertook  to 
be  leader  of  the  society ;  Metrodorus,  the  favourite  dis- 
ciple of  Epicurus,  and  Polysenus  had  died  before  their 
master.  Next  to  these  we  may  mention  among  Epi- 
curus' personal  disciples  Colotes,  and  Idomeneus,  the 
historian.  Polystratus  also,  the  successor  of  Her- 
marchus, may  have  belonged  to  them.  Polystratus  was 
succeeded  by  Dionysius,  whose  successor  was  Basilides. 
Protarchus  of  Bargylium  appears  to  have  belonged 
to  the  second  quarter  of  the  second  century,  Demetrius 
the  Laconian  and  Apollodorus  (o  K^trorvpavvos)  to  the 
third.  The  school  became  widely  spread  in  the  Roman 
world,  in  which,  about  the  middle  of  the  second  cen- 
tury B.C.,  C.  Amafinius  met  with  approval  with  his  Latin 
exposition  of  the  Epicurean  doctrine.  The  pupil  and 
successor  of  Apollodorus,  Zeno  of  Sidon,  taught  with 
great  success  in  Athens  down  to  78  B.C.  His  fellow- 
disciple  and  later  successor  Phaedrus  was  heard  by 
Cicero  at  Rome  as  early  as  90  B.C.  Phsedrus  was  fol- 
lowed by  Patro  at  Athens  ;  in  Rome,  Siro  (Sciro)  th" 
teacher  of  Virgil  was  busy  about  50  R  o.  nnd  Pl.iln- 
demus,  of  whose  writings  many  were  found  in  Hercu- 
laneum.  To  the  same  period  belongs  the  poet  of 
the  school,  Lucretius  Cams  (apparently  94-54  B.C.). 
Numerous  other  names  of  Epicureans  are  known  to 

1  We  possess  (through  Diog.  a  number  of  Herculanean  frig- 

x.  35   ff..  84  ff.,  122  ff.,  139  ff.)  mentses-peci  ally  from  the  Phi/rict, 

three  didactic  letters  and  a  sketch  and  other  fragments  in  Plutarch, 

of  the  t-tliics  (the  ictpuu  S^ai),  also  Cicero,  Seneca,  and  others. 


§78]  EPICURUS  AND  HIS  SCHOOL.  367 

us;  the  school,  the  spread  of  which  is  proved  by 
Diog.  x.  9,  about  230  A.D.,  and  by  Lactantius,  *  Inst., 
iii.  17,  about  320  A.D.,  became  extinct  in  the  fourth  cen- 
tury. But  its  capacity  for  scientific  development  was 
small,  and  if  Epicurus  was  at  pains  to  keep  his  pupils 
strictly  to  the  letter  of  his  doctrines  (Diog.  x.  12  etc.), 
he  succeeded  so  well  that  none  of  them  is  known  to 
have  made  any  attempt  worth  mentioning  towards 
their  development. 

§  74.  The  Epicurean  System.    The  Canonic. 

With  Epicurus  far  more  exclusively  than  with  Zeno 
his  philosophic  system  is  simply  a  means  for  practical 
objects.1  He  cared  little  for  learned  investigation  and 
the  mathematical  sciences,  to  which  he  objected  that 
they  were  useless  and  did  not  correspond  to  reality ; 
and  indeed  his  own  education  in  both  respects  was  very 
insufficient.  Even  in  dialectics  he  ascribed  a  value  only 
to  the  inquiries  into  the  criterion.  This  part  of  his 
system  he  called  the  Canonic.  Physics  in  his  opinion  are 
only  needed  because  the  knowledge  of  natural  causes 
frees  us  from  the  fear  of  the  gods  and  death,  and  a 
knowledge  of  human  nature  shows  us  what  we  ought 


1  Our  sources  for  the  know-  far  as  they  have  been  deciphered 

ledge  of  it,  besides  the  writings  and  published ;  the  fragments  of 

and  fragments  mentioned  in  the  Metrodorus,  Colotes,  &c.,  Diog.  x. 

previous    note,    are:    Lucretius,  28  ff. ;  and  the  information  which 

De  Rerwm  Naturd,  who  seems  to  we    owe    to    Gicero,    Plutarch, 

keep  entirely  to  the  physics    of  Sextus  Empiricus,   Seneca,  8to« 

Epicurus ;  the  writings  of  Philo-  bseus,  and  othen. 
demo*  found  in  Herculanenm,  so 


268  THE  EPICUREAN  SCHOOL.  [§74 

to  desire  or  avoid.  Hence  this  part  of  philosophy  also 
has  no  independent  importance. 

If  with  the  Stoics  empiricism  and  materialism  are 
connected  with  practical  onesidedness,  the  same  con- 
nection is  still  more  strongly  marked  in  Epicurus. 
It  is  entirely  in  the  spirit  of  an  ethical  system, 
which  regards  the  individual  in  himself  only,  that  the 
material  Individual  is  looked  upon  as  the  originally 
Heal,  and  sensuous  perception  as  the  source  of  our  pre- 
sentations. If  man  finds  his  highest  mission  in  pre- 
serving his  individual  life  from  disturbance,  he  must 
not  seek  in  the  universe  for  the  traces  of  a  reason,  on 
•which  he  had  to  support  himself  and  to  whose  laws  he 
must  become  subject.  Nor  must  he  make  any  attempt 
to  secure  a  theoretic  basis  for  his  conduct  by  a  know- 
ledge of  these  laws.  The  world  presents  itself  to  him 
as  a  mechanism ;  within  this  he  arranges  his  life  as  well 
as  he  can,  but  he  need  not  know  more  of  it  than  that 
upon  which  his  own  weal  or  woe  depends.  For  this  ex- 
perience and  natural  intelligence  appear  to  be  suffi- 
cient without  much  logical  apparatus. 

Agreeably  with  this  point  of  view  Epicurus  in 
his  Canonic  primarily  regards  perception  as  the 
criterion  of  truth  in  theory,  and  in  practice  (see  §  76) 
the  feeling  of  pleasure  and  pain.  Perception  is  the 
Obvious  (tvepyeia)  which  is  always  true ;  we  cannot 
doubt  it  without  rendering  knowledge  and  action  im- 
possible (p.  237).  Even  the  deceptions  of  the  senses 
prove  nothing  against  it,  for  in  them  the  fault  lies,  not 
in  the  perception,  but  in  the  judgment.  The  picture 
which  we  believed  that  we  saw  has  really  touched  oui 


$74]  THE  CANONIC.  259 

soul,  but  we  have  not  the  right  to  assume  that  an 
object  corresponds  to  it.  (How  we  are  to  distinguish 
those  pictures  to  which  there  is  a  corresponding  object 
from  those  to  which  no  object  corresponds,  we  are  not 
told.)  Out  of  perceptions  arise  concepts  (VpoA^i/rety), 
since  that  which  is  repeatedly  perceived  becomes 
stamped  upon  the  memory.  As  these  concepts  relate 
to  earlier  perceptions,  they  are  always  true;  hence 
beside  perceptions  (al<j6r)<TSLs)  and  feelings  (iraQr)) 
concepts  can  be  counted  as  criteria.  And  as  even  the 
presentations  of  the  fancy  arise,  according  to  Epicurus, 
by  the  operation  of  objective  pictures  present  to  the 
soul  (cf.  p.  262),  these  also  are  included  in  criteria. 
It  is  only  when  we  pass  beyond  perception  as  such, 
and  form,  from  what  we  know,  an  opinion  (vTroXtj-^ns}  on 
what  we  do  not  know,  that  the  question  arises  whether 
this  opinion  is  true  or  false.  In  order  to  be  true,  an 
opinion,  if  it  refers  to  coming  events,  must  be  con- 
firmed by  experience ;  if  it  refers  to  the  secret  causes 
of  phenomena,  it  must  not  be  contradicted  by  them. 
Epicurus,  in  Diogenes,  x.  32,  mentions  four  ways  by 
which  we  pass  from  perceptions  to  suppositions  (&TTI- 
voicu) ;  but  we  must  not  look  for  a  scientific  theory  of 
induction  (as  Philodemus  shows  us,  irepl  o^/uetW)  in 
him  or  in  his  school. 

§  75.     The  Physics  of  Epicurus.     The  Gods. 

Epicurus'  view  of  the  world  was  in  the  first  in- 
stance determined  by  the  desire  to  exclude  the  inter- 
ference of  supernatural  causes  from  the  world.  Such  an 
interference  must  deprive  man  of  all  inward  security 


260  THE  EPICUREAN  SCHOOL.  [§75 

and  keep  him  in  constant  fear.  This  result  the  philo- 
sopher hopes  to  obtain  most  certainly  by  a  purely 
mechanical  explanation  of  nature.  When  he  looked  for 
such  among  the  older  systems  (for  he  was  neither  in- 
clined nor  qualified  to  form  a  theory  of  his  own  in 
natural  science)  none  corresponded  to  his  object  more 
completely  than  that  which  seemed  to  afford  the  best 
points  of  connection  with  his  ethical  individualism — 
which  had  first  attracted  him,  and  was  perhaps  alone 
accurately  known  to  him.  This  was  the  atomism  of 
Democritus.  Like  Democritus,  Epicurus  erplains  the 
atoms  and  the  void  as  the  primary  elements  of  all 
things.  He  takes  the  same  view  of  the  atoms  as 
Democritus,  only  he  ascribes  to  them  a  limited,  not  an 
infinite  variety  of  shapes.  By  virtue  of  their  weight 
the  atoms  descend  in  empty  space ;  but  as  they  all  fall 
with  equal  rapidity  (as  Aristotle  pointed  out)  and  hence 
cannot  dash  upon  one  another,  and  also  because  such 
an  assumption  seemed  necessary  for  the  freedom  of 
the  will,  Epicurus  assumed  that  they  deviated  at  will 
to  an  infinitesimal  degree  from  the  perpendicular  line. 
Hence  they  dash  on  one  another  and  become  com- 
plicated, rebound,  are  partly  forced  upward,  and  thus 
give  rise  to  those  circular  movements  which  create 
innumerable  worlds  in  the  most  different  parts  of  end- 
less space.  These  worlds,  which  are  separated  by 
portions  of  merely  empty  space  (nsraKoo-fjua,  inter- 
mundia),  present  the  greatest  variety  of  conditions ; 
but  they  have  all  arisen  in  time,  and  with  time  they 
will  again  pass  away. 

As  the  origin  of  the  world  is  said  to  have  been  brought 


1 75]  PHYSICS.  261 

about  by  purely  mechanical  causes,  so  Epicurus  ascribes 
the  greatest  value  to  the  fact  that  every  individual  thing 
in  the  world  is  to  be  explained  in  a  purely  mechanical 
manner  and  to  the  exclusion  of  all  teleological  points 
of  view.  But  how  we  explain  it  is  a  matter  of  little 
importance.  If  we  can  only  be  certain  that  something 
has  its  natural  causes,  it  matters  little  what  the 
causes  are.  For  the  explanation  of  separate  pheno- 
mena of  nature  Epicurus  leaves  us  the  choice  of  all  the 
possible  hypotheses,  and  does  not  absolutely  reject  such 
obvious  absurdities  as  that  the  moon  really  waxes  and 
wanes.  That  the  sun  is  no  larger,  or  but  a  little  larger, 
than  it  seems  to  be,  was  persistently  maintained  by 
his  school,  no  doubt  in  order  that  the  credibility  of  the 
r-enses  might  not  be  impaired. 

Living  beings  were  thought  to  come  originally  from 
the  earth.  In  the  first  instance  there  were  among 
them  many  marvellous  forms,  but  only  those  which 
were  capable  of  life  have  been  preserved  (cf.  p.  74).  In 
regard  to  the  early  condition  and  the  gradual  develop- 
ment of  man  we  find  attractive  and  intelligent 
suppositions  in  Lucretius  (v.  922  ff.).  The  soul  of 
animals  and  men  consists  not  only  of  elements  of  fire, 
air,  and  breath,  but  also  of  a  peculiar  matter,  yet  moie 
delicate  and  mobile,  which  is  the  cause  of  perception, 
and  is  derived  from  the  souls  of  the  parents.  But  in 
men  a  rational  part  is  added  to  the  irrational  part  of 
the  soul,  which  (like  the  Stoic  TIJS/JLOVIKOV)  has  its  seat 
in  the  breast,  while  the  other  permeates  the  whole 
body.  At  death  the  atoms  of  the  soul  are  scattered, 
since  they  are  no  longer  held  together  by  the  body. 


•2Q2  THE  EPICUREAN  SCHOOL.  [§75 

This  to  Epicurus  is  a  great  comfort,  for  only  the 
conviction  that  we  do  not  exist  after  death  can  set  us 
free  from  the  fear  of  the  terrors  of  Hades.  Of  the 
activities  of  soul,  not  only  are  perceptions  explained 
(with  Democritus)  by  a  contact  of  the  soul  with  the 
pictures  (etStuXa)  which  are  given  off  from  the  surface 
of  bodies  and  reach  the  soul  through  the  senses,  but 
the  same  explanation  is  given  of  the  presentations  of 
the  fancy  (fyavTacniKai  £7ri/3oi\al  rrjs  Biavotas),  In 
the  latter,  however,  the  soul  is  touched  by  pictures  of 
which  the  objects  are  no  longer  in  existence,  or  which 
have  first  formed  themselves  in  the  air  from  the  com 
mingling  of  different  idola,  or  from  new  combinations 
of  atoms.  Through  the  movements  which  the  pictures 
create  in  the  soul,  when  forcing  themselves  into  it, 
earlier  movements  of  the  soul  are  awakened  anew,  and 
this  is  recollection.  From  the  combination  of  a  picture 
of  recollection  with  a  perception  arises  opinion,  and 
with  it  the  possibility  of  error  (p.  259).  The  will 
consists  in  motions  which  are  brought  about  in  the 
soul  by  presentations,  and  pass  from  it  to  the  body. 
The  freedom  of  the  will,  in  the  sense  of  pure  inde- 
terminism,  was  strongly  maintained  by  Epicurus,  who 
also  vigorously  controverted  the  Stoic  fatalism.  Of 
any  deeper  psychological  investigations  into  this  point 
we  find  no  trace  in  him. 

By  these  physics  Epicurus  hopes  to  have  removed 
for  ever  the  fear  of  the  gods  as  well  as  the  fear  of 
death.  It  is  true  that  he  will  not  attack  the  belief  in 
the  gods.  The  universality  of  this  belief  seems  to  him 
a  proof  that  it  is  founded  on  real  experience,  and  the 


§75]  THE  GODS.  263 

pictures,  from  the  appearance  of  which  he  can  only 
explain  it  (see  above),  arise,  at  least  in  part,  from  real 
beings,  and  are  perceptions,  not  merely  pictures  of 
imagination.  Moreover,  he  feels  the  necessity  of 
seeing  his  ideal  of  happiness  realised  among  the  gods. 
l!ut  he  can  only  share  the  prevailing  notions  about 
the  gods  to  a  limited  extent,  for  he  is  distinctly 
opposed  to  the  relation  in  which  they  stand  to  the 
world.  He  assumes  a  plurality  of  gods — in  fact  he 
regards  them  as  innumerable ;  and  he  also  considers  it 
as  self-evident  that  they  should  have  the  shape  of  man, 
as  the  most  beautiful  that  can  be  conceived.  He  also 
attributes  to  them  the  distinction  of  sex,  the  need  of 
food,  and  language,  even  the  Greek  language.  But  the 
happiness  and  immortality  of  the  gods,  the  two  leading 
marks  of  his  conception  of  deity,  require  in  his  opinion 
that  they  should  have  fine  bodies  of  light  instead  of 
our  coarse  bodies,  and  live  in  the  intermundia,  for  in 
any  other  case  they  would  be  affected  by  the  decay  of 
the  worlds  in  which  they  dwelt,  and  disturbed  in  their 
happiness  by  the  prospect  of  this  misfortune.  Their 
happiness  also  requires  that  they  should  not  be  bur- 
dened with  the  care  of  the  world  and  men,  which  the 
belief  in  providence  lays  upon  them.  Still  more 
indispensable  is  this  assumption  for  the  repose  of  man, 
who  has  no  more  dangerous  enemy  than  the  opinion 
that  higher  powers  interfere  in  the  world.  Epicurus 
is  therefore  the  most  pronounced  opponent  of  this 
belief  in  any  form.  He  can  only  derive  the  national 
religion  from  uncertainty  and,  above  all,  from  timidity ; 
and  he  finds  the  Stoic  doctrine  of  providence  and 


264  THE  EPICUREAN  SCHOOL.  [§75 

destiny,  which  are  contradicted  by  the  actual  nature  of 
the  world,  even  more  comfortless  than  the  absurdities 
of  mythology.  That  he  has  freed  men  from  this 
delusion,  from  the  fear  of  the  gods  (religio\  which 
oppressed  them,  is  extolled  as  his  immortal  service  by 
his  admirers  (as  Lucretius,  i.  62  ff.),  while  on  the  other 
hand,  they  commend  his  piety  and  his  participation  in 
the  traditional  worship  of  the  gods. 

§  76.  The  Ethics  of  Epicurus. 

As  Epicurus  in  his  Physics  explained  the  atoms 
as  the  source  of  all  being,  he  regards  the  individual  in 
his  Ethics  as  the  aim  of  all  action.  The  measure 
(icavaiv)  for  distinguishing  good  and  evil  is  our  feeling 
(Tratfos,  p.  259).  The  only  absolute  good  is  pleasure, 
after  which  all  living  things  strive ;  the  only  absolute 
evil  is  pain,  which  all  avoid.  Hence  in  general 
Epicurus,  like  Aristippus,  regards  pleasure  as  the  final 
object  of  our  action.  Yet  by  pleasure  he  does  not 
mean  the  individual  sensations  of  pleasure  as  such, 
but  the  happiness  of  an  entire  life.  Our  judgment 
must  decide  on  separate  enjoyments  or  pains  by  their 
relation  to  this.  Further,  he  believes  that  the  real 
importance  of  pleasure  consists  only  in  the  satisfaction 
of  a  need,  and  hence  in  the  removal  of  what  is  not 
pleasurable  ;  our  final  object  is  not  positive  pleasure, 
but  freedom  from  pain  ;  not  the  motion,  but  the  repose 
of  the  spirit.  As  the  most  essential  conditions  of  this 
repose  lie  in  the  state  of  our  feelings,  Epicurus  regards 
i  he  pleasures  and  pains  of  the  mind  as  far  more  im- 


§76]  STHIC8.  26o 

portant  than  those  of  the  body.  For  however  publicly 
and  plainly  he  declares  (in  spite  of  some  different 
expressions)  that  all  pleasure  and  pain  arise  in  the 
last  resort  from  bodily  conditions,  yet  he  observes  that 
only  present  delights  and  pains  act  upon  the  body, 
whereas  the  soul  is  moved  by  those  of  the  past  and 
the  future.  These  feelings,  which  rest  upon  memory, 
hope,  and  fear,  are  in  his  view  so  much  the  more 
violent  that  he  feels  himself  justified  in  extolling  the 
absolute  power  of  the  spirit  over  bodily  pains  with  the 
same  exaggeration  as  the  Cynics  and  Stoics.  The 
severest  pains  are  only  of  short  duration  and  quickly 
put  an  end  to  our  life ;  the  less  severe  can  be  borne 
and  overcome  by  superior  intellectual  enjoyments. 

Virtue  is  only  a  condition  of  repose  of  mind,  but 
it  is  so  indispensable  a  condition  that,  even  according 
to  Epicurus,  happiness  is  indissolubly  connected  with 
virtue,  however  small  the  independent  value  which  his 
system  allows  us  to  attribute  to  it.  Insight  frees  us 
from  the  prejudices  which  disturb  us,  from  empty 
fancies  and  wishes ;  it  teaches  us  the  true  art  of  life. 
Self-control  preserves  us  from  sorrows  by  correct  con- 
duct in  regard  to  pleasure  and  pain,  bravery  by  the 
contempt  of  death  and  suffering ;  to  justice  we  owe  it 
that  no  fear  of  punishment  disturbs  our  equanimity. 
Epicurus  himself  led  a  pattern  life,  and  his  sayings  fre- 
quently exhibit  a  purity  of  sentiment  which  goes  far 
beyond  their  unsatisfactory  scientific  foundation.  His 
ideal  of  the  wise  man  approaches  closely  to  the  Stoic. 
If  he  does  not  ascribe  to  him  either  the  Stoic  apathy 
or  their  contempt  of  sensual  enjoyment,  yet  he  repre- 


266  THE  EPICUREAN  SCHOOL.  [§  1& 

sents  him  as  so  completely  master  of  his  desires  that 
they  never  lead  him  astray.  He  describes  him  as  so 
independent  of  all  external  things,  his  happiness  as  so 
complete,  and  his  wisdom  as  so  inalienable,  that  he 
can  say  of  him  no  less  than  the  Stoics  of  their  ideal, 
that  he  walks  as  a  god  among  men,  and  even  on  bread 
and  water  he  need  not  envy  Zeus. 

In  harmony  with  this  ideal  Epicurus'  rules  of  life 
aim  in  the  first  instance  at  procuring  for  the  individual, 
as  such,  a  contented  and  independent  existence  by 
liberating  him  from  prejudices  and  controlling  his 
desires.  Living  himself  an  unusually  moderate  and 
contented  life,  he  urges  others  to  contentment.  Even 
of  actual  desires  only  a  part  aims  at  what  is  necessary  ; 
by  far  the  greatest  portion  seeks  what  is  unnatural 
and  useless.  Among  the  latter  Epicurus  especially 
places  the  desire  for  honour  and  glory.  Hence  he  does 
not  require  the  suppression  of  the  sensual  impulses ; 
he  will  not  forbid  a  rich  enjoyment  of  life,  but  all  the 
more  vehemently  does  he  insist  that  a  man  shall  not 
make  himself  dependent  on  these  things.  The  point 
is  not  to  use  little,  but  to  need  little.  A  man  is 
not  to  bind  himself  absolutely  even  to  life.  Epicurus 
allows  him  to  withdraw  himself  from  intolerable 
miseries  by  a  voluntary  death,  though  he  is  of  opinion 
that  such  miseries  rarely  happen. 

It  was  more  difficult  for  Epicurus  to  establish  the 
necessity  and  importance  of  the  social  life  of  man. 
Here  his  system  opened  but  one  path — the  considera- 
tion of  the  advantages  which  accrue  to  men  from  their 
union  with  one  another.  Even  these  the  philosopher, 


§  761  ETHICS.  267 

to  whom  freedom  from  trouble  is  the  highest  good,  seeks 
rather  in  protection  against  injuries  than  in  any  posi- 
tive advancement  of  the  individual  by  moral  commu- 
nion with  others.  With  him  this  holds  good  especially 
of  the  State.  The  aim  of  all  laws  is  the  security  of 
society  against  injustice.  It  is  only  the  wise  who,  being 
convinced  of  its  harmfulness,  refrain  from  injustice 
voluntarily ;  the  mass  of  men  must  be  deterred  from 
it  by  punishment.  To  enjoy  this  security  without 
being  disturbed  in  it  by  the  trouble  and  danger,  from 
which  a  statesman  cannot  withdraw  himself,  appeared 
to  the  philosopher  as  the  most  desirable  object.  Hence 
he  recommends  obedience  to  the  laws,  because  a  man 
who  breaks  them  can  never  be  free  from  the  fear  of 
punishment ;  but  he  considers  it  better  to  hold  aloof 
from  all  public  life  unless  special  circumstances  require 
the  contrary.  His  motto  is  \d0s  ftiwa-as.  He  has 
doubts  even  about  family  life  and  marriage.  The  more 
lively,  both  in  him  and  his  school,  was  the  feeling  for 
friendship.  If  it  seems  inadequate  to  establish  this 
relation  only  on  the  value  of  the  mutual  support  and 
the  feeling  of  security  which  arise  from  it,  yet,  in 
fact,  he  went  far  beyond  these  limits.  The  Epicurean 
friendships  were  famous,  like  the  Pythagorean,  and 
the  supposed  Pythagorean  community  of  goods  was 
only  rejected  by  Epicurus  because  such  an  arrange- 
ment ought  not  to  be  required  among  friends. 
But  it  would  not  have  been  in  harmony  with  the 
principles  of  Epicurus  co  limit  his  beneficence  to  the 
circle  of  his  personal  friends.  In  him  and  in  many 
men  of  his  school  a  mild  and  philanthropic  temper 


268  THE  EPICUREAN  SCHOOL  [§  ?« 

towards  all  the  world  is  present.  In  his  own  conduct 
this  is  expressed  in  the  saying  (among  others),  that  it 
is  more  pleasant  to  do  a  kindness  than  to  receive  one. 

III.    SCEPTICISM. 
§  77.  Pyrrho  and  the  Pyrrhonians. 

The  foundation  of  the  Pyrrhonic  School  took  place 
somewhat  earlier  than  that  of  the  Stoic  or  Epicurean. 
In  its  practical  aim  it  approaches  the  Stoic,  but  it 
seeks  to  attain  it  not  by  definite  scientific  conviction, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  by  despair  of  any  such  conviction. 
Pyrrho  of  Elis  had  apparently  become  acquainted  with 
the  doctrines  of  the  Elean-Megarian  school  when  with 
Anaxarchus  (p.  83)  he  accompanied  Alexander  to  the 
East.  At  a  later  time  he  founded  a  school  of  his  own 
in  his  native  city,  where  he  lived  universally  honoured, 
though  in  poor  circumstances.  The  school  did  not 
spread  widely.  He  lived  to  be  nearly  ninety  years  of 
age,  and  seems  to  have  died  about  270-5  B.C.  He  left 
no  writings  behind  him ;  even  in  antiquity  his  doc- 
trines were  only  known  by  the  treatises  of  his  pupil, 
Timon  of  Phlius,  who  subsequently  lived  in  Athens  and 
there  died,  also  about  ninety  years  old,  after  241  B.C. 

In  order  to  live  happily  a  man  ought,  according  to 
Timon  (ap.  Euseb.  *Pr.  Ev.'  xiv.  18)  to  be  clear  on 
three  matters  :  What  is  the  nature  of  things,  How  we 
are  related  to  them,  and  What  we  can  gain  from 
this  relation.' 

To  the  first  two  of  these  questions  we  can  only 
answer,  that  the  nature  of  things  is  quite  unknown  to 


$77]  SCEPTICISM.    PYRKHO.  268 

us,  for  perception  only  shows  us  things  as  they  appear, 
and  not  as  they  are,  and  our  opinions  are  entirely 
subjective;  that  we  can  never  maintain  anything  (ovblv 
6pi&iv)i  never  ought  to  say  'this  is  so,'  but  only  'this 
seems  to  me  so ' ;  and  that  a  suspension  of  judgment 
(HTTO^T;,  a<£a<rta,  aKarakvtyla)  is  the  only  correct 
attitude  towards  things.  If  we  observe  this  attitude. 
the  result,  in  Timon's  belief,  is  at  once  arapagia,  or 
apathy.  He  who  has  despaired  of  knowing  anything 
of  the  nature  of  things  cannot  attribute  a  higher  value 
to  one  thing  than  another ;  he  will  not  believe  that 
anything  is  in  itself  good  or  bad,  but  these  conceptions 
are  rather  to  be  referred  to  law  and  custom.  In- 
different to  all  other  things,  he  will  strive  after  the 
correct  mood  of  temper,  or  virtue,  and  thus  find  happi- 
ness in  tranquillity.  So  far  as  he  is  compelled  to  act, 
he  will  follow  probability,  nature,  and  custom.  Pyrrho 
does  not  seem  to  have  gone  further  into  detail  in  the 
scientific  establishment  of  these  doctrines ;  the  ten 
Sceptic  '  tropes,'  which  later  writers  ascribe  to  him,  are 
certainly  to  be  ascribed  to  ^Enesidemus  (§  88).  Some 
pupils  of  Timon  are  mentioned,  and  again  a  pupil  of 
one  of  Timon's  pupils.  But  this  was  the  last  offshoot 
of  the  Pyrrhonic  Scepticism  ;  its  place  was  taken  after 
1  he  middle  of  the  third  century  by  the  Academic. 

$  78.  The  New  Academy. 

The  philosopher  who  led  the  Academy  in  this  new 
path  was  Arcesilaus  of  Pitane  in  ^Eolia  (315-241-0  B.C.) 
the  successor  of  Crates  (j>.  169).  We  are  only  iija- 


270  THE  NEW  ACADEMY.  [§78 

perfectly  acquainted  with  his  doctrines,  ana  as  he  wrote 
nothing,  even  the  ancients  only  knew  them  at  third 
hand.  According  to  Cicero,  <De  Orat.'  iii.  18,  67,  he 
controverted  the  possibility  of  knowing  anything  by 
the  senses  or  the  reason  (sensibus  ant  animo) ;  but 
the  main  object  of  his  attacks  was  Zeno's  doctrine  of 
presentation  by  concepts.  His  chief  objection,  beside 
some  more  formal  criticisms,  was  his  opinion  that  there 
were  no  presentations  which  contained  in  themselves  a 
certain  mark  of  their  truth,  and  this  opinion  he 
attempted  to  prove  by  various  applications.  He  also 
seems  to  have  controverted  the  Stoic  physics  and 
theology.  In  consequence  he  maintained  with  Pyrrho 
that  there  was  nothing  left  but  suspension  of  judg- 
ment (ITTO^').  This  point  of  view  he  upheld  so 
strictly  that  he  would  not  allow  even  that  principle 
to  be  ;;sserted  as  knowledge.  For  this  reason  it  is  the 
more  incredible  that  his  scepticism  was  intended  to 
serve  only  as  a  preparation  for  the  Platonic  dogmatism. 
But  he  did  not  allow  that  the  possibility  of  action 
must  be  given  up  with  the  possibility  of  knowledge. 
The  presentation  sets  the  will  in  motion,  even  though 
we  do  not  consider  it  knowledge,  and  in  order  to  act 
rationally  it  is  sufficient  to  follow  reason,  which  forms 
the  highest  criterion  for  practical  life. 

Arcesilaus  was  succeeded  in  the  chair  by  Lacydes 
of  Gyrene.  Before  his  death  the  latter  handed  over 
the  headship  of  the  school  (215-4  B.C.)  to  the  Pho- 
cseans  Telecles  and  Evander,  who  were  followed  by 
Hegesinus  (Hegesilaus).  But  neither  of  these  nor  of 
the  rest  of  the  Academicians  who  are  mentioned  from 


§78]  ARCESILAUS— CAENEADE8.  271 

this  period,  do  we  know  more  than  the  general  fact  that 
they  remained  true  to  the  direction  struck  out  by 
Arcesilaus.  The  greater  is  the  importance  of  Car- 
neades, who  on  this  account  is  called  the  founder  of 
the  third  or  new  Academy,  while  Arcesilaus  is  re- 
garded as  the  founder  of  the  second  or  middle  school, 
Philo  and  Antioch  us  ( §  8 1 )  of  the  fourth  and  fifth.  This 
acute  and  learned  man,  who  was  also  famous  for  the 
persuasive  force  of  his  eloquence,  was  born  in  Cyrene 
in  213-214  B.C.,  and  became  leader  of  the  school  long 
before  156  B.C.  when  he  came  with  the  embassy  of 
philosophers  to  Home  (p.  226),  and  he  remained  leader 
with  great  success  and  honour  till  his  death  in  129  B.C. 
He  left  no  writings ;  the  exposition  of  his  doctrines 
was  the  work  of  his  pupils,  especially  of  Clitomachus. 
The  teaching  of  Carneades  marks  the  culmination  of 
Academic  scepticism.  If  Arcesilaus  had  chiefly  directed 
his  attacks  against  the  Stoic  doctrine  of  the  criterion, 
Carneades  also  treats  the  Stoics,  who  were  the  most 
eminent  dogmatists  of  the  time,  as  his  chief  oppo- 
nents. But  he  investigated  the  question  of  the 
possibility  of  knowledge  on  wider  grounds,  and  sub- 
jected the  views  of  the  various  philosophers  to  a  more 
comprehensive  and  penetrating  criticism  than  bis  pre- 
decessors, while  at  the  same  time  he  defined  more 
precisely  the  degrees  and  conditions  of  probability. 
First  he  asked  in  general  terms  whether  knowledge 
was  possible.  This  question  he  believed  that  he  must 
answer  in  the  negative,  because,  (as  he  proved  more  in 
detail)  there  is  no  kind  of  conviction  which  does  not 
deceive  us,  no  true  presentation  to  which  there  is  not 


272  THE  NEW  ACADEMY.  [f  ?* 

a  false  one  precisely  similar.  Hence  there  is  no  cri- 
terion of  truth  in  the  sense  of  the  Stoic  '  presentation 
in  concepts.'  In  like  manner  he  denied  the  possibility 
of  demonstration,  partly  because  this  could  only  be 
done  by  proof,  and  hence  by  a  petitio  principii,  partly 
because  the  premisses  of  the  proofs  require  proof  in 
turn,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum.  He  examined  the 
philosophic  systems  more  in  detail,  and  especially  con- 
troverted the  Stoic  theology  on  every  side.  If  the 
Stoics  inferred  the  existence  of  God  from  the  teleo- 
logical  arrangement  of  the  world,  Carneades  rejected 
the  soundness  of  this  conclusion,  as  well  as  the  cor- 
rectness of  the  presupposition  on  which  it  rests,  on  the 
ground  of  the  numerous  evils  existing  in  the  world. 
He  even  attacked  the  conception  of  God  by  attempting 
to  show  with  great  acuteness,  and  in  so  far  as  we  know 
for  the  first  time,  that  the  Deity  cannot  be  thought  of 
as  a  living  rational  creature  (£o>oi>  \OJIKOV}  without  at- 
tributing to  it  qualities  and  circumstances,  which  are 
at  variance  with  its  eternity  and  perfection.  But  we 
can  here  only  touch  upon  his  criticism  of  polytheism 
and  his  attacks  on  the  Stoic  belief  in  prophecy,  with 
which  is  connected  his  polemic  against  the  Stoic  deter- 
minism. A  still  greater  impression  appears  to  have 
been  produced  by  his  criticism  of  moral  notions,  of 
which  a  sample  was  given  in  his  two  lectures,  for  and 
against  justice,  delivered  at  Rome.  For  this,  following 
the  pattern  of  the  sophists,  he  made  chief  use  of  the 
contrast  of  natural  and  positive  right.  But  our  in- 
formation on  this  point  is  very  imperfect,  and  in  truth 
the  accounts  of  Carneades  give  us  no  exhaustive 


578]  CARNEADES,  ETCL  278 

picture  of  his  scientific  activity.  The  final  result  of 
his  sceptical  discussions  was  naturally  that  which  had 
been  long  pronounced:  the  absolute  impossibility  of 
knowledge,  and  the  demand  for  an  unconditional  sus- 
pension of  judgment.  If  the  earlier  sceptics  had  at  least 
recognised  probability  as  the  standard  for  our  practical 
conduct,  Carneades  pursued  the  thought  yet  further. 
He  distinguished  three  degrees  of  probability,  and 
consequently  three  kinds  of  probable  presentations: 
those  that  are  probable  in  themselves,  those  whose 
probability  is  confirmed  by  others  connected  with  them, 
and  those  in  which  this  holds  good  of  the  latter 
presentations  a\so(<f>avTa<ria  iriQavr\,  (fxivrao-la  Tridavrj 
KOI  airsptcnrao'TOS,  and  fyavTCKria,  iridavrj  xal  airepi- 
o-Trao-Tos  teal  7rspia)8sv/jisvij\  and  he  appears  to  have  in- 
vestigated even  in  details  the  marks  by  which  we 
are  to  decide  upon  probability.  How  he  treated 
ethical  questions  from  this  point  of  view  we  cannot  fix 
with  certainty.  It  is  most  probable  that  he  adhered  to 
the  principle  of  the  Old  Academy — the  life  according 
to  nature — and  found  virtue  in  striving  after  natural 
goods. 

After  Carneades  the  Academy  was  conducted  by  his 
pupils,  first  the  younger  Carneades,  then  Crates— by 
both  for  but  a  few  years,  and  then  by  the  most  dis- 
tinguished of  the  body,  Clitomachus  the  Carthaginian, 
who  cannot  have  been  born  after  175  B.C.,  and  died 
after  110.  On  his  successors  cf.  §  81. 


SECOND  SECTION. 

ECLECTICISM.   RENEWED  SCEPTICISM.    PRECURSORS 
OF  NEO-PLATONISM. 

I.  ECLECTICISM. 

$  79.  Its  Origin  and  Character. 

VIGOROUS  as  were  the  controversies  between  the 
philosophic  schools  of  the  post-Aristotelian  period,  it 
was  natural  that  in  the  course  of  years  these  contrasts 
should  be  softened,  and  the  relationship  which,  in  spite 
of  all  differences,  existed  from  the  first  between  the 
Academic,  Peripatetic,  and  Stoic  schools  should  make 
itself  more  distinctly  felt.  For  this  purpose  two 
factors,  operating  contemporaneously,  were  of  the 
utmost  importance — the  success  which  the  Academic 
scepticism  obtained  through  Carneades,  and  the  con- 
nection into  which  Greece  entered  with  Kome. 

The  more  seriously  the  belief  of  the  dogmatic  schools 
in  the  impregnability  of  their  doctrines  had  been 
shattered  by  the  penetrating  criticism  of  Carneades,  the 
more  inclined  must  they  have  become  to  return  from 
these  distinctive  doctrines  which  were  exposed  to  so 
many  objections,  to  those  convictions  upon  which  men 
could  be  essentially  in  harmony,  and  which  even  their 
critic  himself  recognised  as  the  standard  in  practical 
conduct,  and  therefore  sufficient  in  the  most  important 
matter.  On  the  other  hand,  the  more  strongly  that 
even  Carneades,  in  the  development  of  his  doctrine  of 


§  79]  ORIGIN  OF  ECLECTICISM.  276 

probability,  had  expressed  the  necessity  of  securing 
such  practical  standards  for  himself,  the  more  easily 
would  his  school,  in  pursuing  the  same  direction,  come 
to  lay  the  chief  weight  on  this  part  of  their  doctrine. 
Thus  they  departed  more  and  more  from  scepticism,  for 
that  which  was  to  Carneades  only  probable  obtained  in 
time  the  value  of  something  certainly  known. 

The  Roman  spirit  which  now  began  to  have  an  in- 
fluence on  Greek  science  contributed  to  the  same  result. 
After  the  conquest  of  Macedonia  by  the  Romans  (168 
B.C.)  Greece  was  in  fact — what  it  became,  more  and  more, 
in  form — a  part  of  the  Roman  Empire.  Ere  long,  under 
the  influence  of  Flamininus,  ^Emilius  Paulus,  Scipio 
^Emilianus,  and  his  friends,  there  arose  a  scientific 
intercourse  between  Greece  and  Rome  which  carried 
Greek  teachers  to  Rome  and  young  Romans  in  ever- 
increasing  numbers  to  the  philosophic  schools  of  Athens 
and  other  Greek  cities.  More  important  than  the 
philosophic  embassy  (p.  226)  was  the  stay  of  Panaetius 
(§  80)  at  Rome  and  the  contemporaneous  spread  of 
Epicureanism  among  the  Romans  (p.  256).  After  the 
beginning  of  the  last  century  B.C.  Greek  philosophy 
was  regarded  in  Rome  as  an  indispensable  part  of 
higher  culture.  If  the  Greeks  were  in  the  first  instance 
the  teachers  and  the  Romans  the  pupils,  yet  it  was 
natural  that  the  Greeks  should  adapt  themselves  more 
or  less  to  the  needs  of  their  distinguished  and  influ- 
ential hearers,  and  that  in  their  intercourse  with  the 
Roman  world  they  should  be  touched  by  the  spirit 
which  had  created  it.  It  was  in  harmony  with  this 
spirit  to  estimate  each  view  according  to  its  value  for 


276  ECLECTICISM.  [«79 

practical  life  rather  than  its  scientific  soundness. 
Hence  these  relations  must  also  have  contributed  to 
nourish  the  inclination  towards  an  amalgamation  of 
the  philosophic  schools,  to  throw  their  distinctive  doc- 
trines into  the  background,  and  bring  forward  what 
was  common  to  all,  especially  in  points  of  practical 
importance.  But  in  order  to  be  able  to  choose  what  ip 
true  or  probable  from  different  views,  not  immediately 
reconcilable,  a  criterion  must  be  provided  for  this 
object,  and  thus  men  were  finally  brought  to  certain 
convictions,  which  it  was  thought  were  fixed  in  us  before 
any  demonstration,  and  which  maintained  their  truth 
by  general  recognition,  by  the  consensus  gentium. 

This  eclecticism  first  appeared  in  the  Stoic  school ; 
in  the  sequel  it  became  more  prevalent  in  the  Academic, 
and  found  an  entrance  even  into  the  Peripatetic.  In 
the  Epicurean  school,  on  the  other  hand,  we  cannot 
find  any  important  deviation  from  the  doctrine  of  its 
founder,  though  Zeno  of  Sidon,  when  with  Carneades, 
whom  he  attended  as  well  as  Apollodorus,  acquired  a 
more  dialectic  method  than  was  usual  in  the  school. 
That  the  physician  Asclepiades  of  Bithynia  (100-50 
B.C.),  like  Heracleides,  put  original  bodies  (avappoi 
SyKoi)  which  were  thought  to  be  shattered  by  collision, 
in  the  place  of  the  atoms,  is  the  less  important,  as 
Asclepiades,  though  he  approached  the  Epicurean 
school,  did  not  belong  to  it. 

§  80.  The  Stoics.    Boethus,  Pancetius,  Posidonius. 

Though  the  Stoic  system  was  brought  by  Chrys- 
ippus  to  a  relative  perfection,  the  Stoics  were  not  so 


§80]  STOICS—  BOETHUS,  PAN&TIVS.  277 

strictly  isolated  in  the  doctrine  of  their  school  that 
they  did  not  allow  some  deviations  from  it.  Some 
of  these  were  due  to  the  influence  of  older  systems, 
others  to  the  wish  to  meet  the  attacks  of  their  oppo- 
nents, and,  above  all,  the  incisive  criticism  of  Carneades. 
Zeno  of  Tarsus,  the  successor  of  Chrysippus,  is  said  to 
have  expressed  himself  doubtfully  about  the  doctrine 
of  the  conflagration  of  the  world,  and  also  Diogenes  in 
his  latest  years,  perhaps  because  he  could  not  solve 
the  difficulties  raised  by  Boethus  and  Panaetius.  But 
these  two  pupils  of  Diogenes  deviated  far  more  widely 
from  the  old  Stoic  teaching.  Boethus  differed  not 
only  in  his  theory  of  knowledge,  inasmuch  as  he 
described  reason  (vovs\  sdpjp:e,  and  desire  as  criteria 
no  less  than  perception,  but  he  also  regarded  the  Deity 
— which  with  his  school  he  considered  the  same  as  the 
aether — to  be  divided  in  substance  from  the  world. 
Consequently  he  would  not  allow  the  world  to  be  an 
animated  being  ;  he  merely  assumed  a  co-operation  of 
the  Deity  with  things.  In  connection  with  this  middle 
position  between  Zeno  and  Aristotle  he  controverted 
at  length  the  conflagration  maintained  by  the  first, 
in  order  to  put  the  eternity  of  the  world  in  its  place. 

But  the  Stoic  school  of  Panaetius  of  Rhodes 
(approximately  between  185  and  110  B.C.)  had  much 
greater  influence.  He  was  the  successor  of  Antipater 
at  Athens  and  at  the  same  time  the  chief  founder  of 
the  Roman  Stoicism,  the  friend  of  the  younger  Scipio 
Africanus  and  of  Laelius,  the  teacher  of  Q.  Muciu? 
Scsevola,  and  L.  ^Elius  Stilo,  and  other  Roman  Stoics. 
Preserving  the  independence  of  his  judgment  in 


278  ECLECTICISM.  H  80 

literary  and  historical  criticism,  Panastius  was  a  pro- 
nounced admirer  of  Plato  and  Aristotle.  It  was  the 
more  natural  for  him  to  allow  their  doctrines  to  have 
an  influence  on  his  own  as  he  seems  to  have  treated 
the  Stoic  philosophy  from  the  practical  side,  and  not 
merely  in  the  severer  form  of  the  school.  This  is  seen 
in  his  work  on  duties  (irepl  TOV  KadjicovTOf),  which  was 
the  pattern  of  the  Ciceronian « De  Officiis.'  With  Boethus 
he  controverted  the  destruction  and  apparently  also 
the  origin  of  the  world,  denied  the  continuance  of  the 
soul  after  death,  and  distinguished  in  it,  like  Aristotle, 
the  vegetable  part  (<£yerts)  from  the  animal  (^y%^). 
We  cannot  assume  that  in  his  ethics  he  contradicted 
the  old  Stoic  doctrine,  though  he  seems  to  have  laid 
greater  stress  on  the  points  in  which  it  deviated  from 
Cynicism  and  came  into  contact  with  Plato  and 
Aristotle.  On  the  other  hand,  he  repeated  Carneades* 
doubts  about  prophecy,  and  made  a  freer  application 
than  had  hitherto  been  usual  among  the  Stoics  of  the 
division  of  a  triple  theology  (p.  255),  though  he  was  not, 
perhaps,  the  first  to  bring  the  division  forward. 

Pansetius'  most  famous  pupil  was  the  learned  Posi- 
donius  of  Apamea,  who  died  in  Rhodes  about  50-46 
B.C.,  at  eighty-four  years  of  age,  as  the  leader  of  a 
popular  school.  After  him  came  Hecato,  also  a  Rho- 
dian ;  his  successors  in  Athens  were  Mnesarchus  and 
Dardanus  (contemporaries),  who  were  apparently 
followed  by  Apollodorus.  It  is  only  of  Posidonius  that 
we  have  any  details.  This  important  and  influential 
Stoic  retained  the  tradition  of  his  school  more  strictly 
in  many  points  than  Pansetius.  He  defended  the 


§*>}  iSToics-posibONiua,  ETC. 


conflagration  of  the  world,  the  continuance  of  the  soul 
after  death,  the  existence  of  demons,  and  took  under 
his  protection  the  Stoic  belief  in  prophecy  to  its  full 
extent.  On  the  other  hand,  he  shared  Panaetius* 
admiration  for  Plato,  and  in  order  to  give  a  psycho- 
logical foundation  for  the  contests  between  reason 
and  the  passions,  on  which  the  Stoics  laid  such  weight, 
he  followed  Plato  (p.  154)  in  assigning  the  passions  to 
courage  and  the  desires,  which  were  regarded  not  as 
separate  parts  of  the  soul,  but  as  separate  powers  of 
it  depending  on  the  nature  of  the  body  —  a  devia- 
tion from  the  older  Stoicism  which  is  not  without 
importance  for  the  subsequent  period. 

Many  other  Stoics  are  known  to  us  from  the  first 
century  B.C.  Such  was  Dionysius,  who  lived  in  Athens 
about  50  B.C.,  perhaps  as  leader  of  the  school  ;  Jason, 
the  grandson  and  successor  of  Posidonius,  the  two 
Athenodori  of  Tarsus,  of  whom  one,  the  son  of 
Sandon,  was  the  instructor  of  Augustus  ;  Geminus,  the 
astronomer,  a  pupil  of  Posidonius  ;  Cato  of  Utica,  the 
geographer  Strabo  (58  B.C.  to  20  A.D.)  and  others. 
But  of  none  of  these  have  we  any  philosophical 
treatises,  or  larger  fragments  of  such  treatises  than  the 
fragments  of  Arms  Didymus  (p.  282).  This  last-men- 
tioned philosopher  is  a  further  example  of  the  echo 
which  the  eclectic  tendencies  of  the  time  found  even  in 
the  Stoic  school* 

§  81.     The  Academicians  of  the  Last  Century  B.O. 

Yet  the  chief  seat  of  this  eclecticism  was  the  Aca- 
demic school.  Even  among  the  personal  pupils  of 


180  ECLECTICISM.  f|« 

Carneades  there  were  some  like  Metrodorus  of  Strato- 
nice,  ^schines,  and  no  doubt  Charmidas,  who  aban- 
doned the  proposition  that  things  were  absolutely 
unknowable.  This  was  more  definitely  done  by  Philo 
of  Larissa  (who  fled  to  Rome  about  88  B.C.,  where  he 
was  the  teacher  of  Cicero,  and  appears  to  have  died 
about  80  B.C.),  the  pupil  and  successor  of  Clitomachus. 
He  not  merely  made  it  the  object  of  philosophy  to 
point  out  the  way  to  happiness  to  men,  but  he  wished 
to  attain  this  object  by  a  detailed  ethical  theory,  by  con- 
troverting false  moral  conceptions  and  imparting  correct 
ones  (Stob.  *  Eel.'  ii.  40  ff.).  Thus  he  could  not  con- 
sistently maintain  a  point  of  view  which  brings  into  ques- 
tion the  truth  of  all  our  conceptions.  Hence,  although 
he  joined  Carneades  in  controverting  the  Stoic  doctrine 
of  the  criterion,  and  regarded  an  absolutely  certain 
knowledge,  a  conception  of  things,  as  impossible,  yet  he 
'  would  not  deny  all  power  of  knowledge,  and  maintained 
that  even  Arcesilaus  and  Carneades  did  not  intend  to 
deny  it.  There  was  an  obviousness  (svdpysta),  which 
created  a  perfectly  sure  conviction,  though  it  did  not 
attain  to  the  absolute  certainty  of  the  concept.  Thus 
he  sought  for  something  intermediate  between  mere 
probability  and  knowledge. 

That  such  an  intermediate  position  is  untenable  was 
recognised  by  Philo's  disciple  and  successor,  the  friend 
of  Lucullus,  and  also  one  of  Cicero's  teachers,  Anti- 
ochus  of  Ascalon  (died  68  B.C.),  who  finally  quarrelled 
with  Philo  on  this  subject.  By  this  Academician,  who 
also  attended  the  Stoic  Mnesarchus,  the  Academy  was 
definitely  led  from  Scepticism  to  Eclecticism.  Among 


§81]  ACADEMICS.     ANTIOCHUS,  ETC.  281 

other  objections  to  Scepticism,  he,  like  the  Stoics, 
indubitably  thought  it  of  great  weight  that  without 
sure  conviction  no  rational  conduct  of  life  is  possible. 
Nevertheless,  he  controverted  it  on  scientific  grounds, 
maintaining  that  without  truth  there  was  no  proba- 
bility ;  that  it  was  a  contradiction  to  maintain  that 
nothing  could  be  mai  itained  and  prove  that  nothing 
could  be  proved,  &c. ;  that  it  was  impossible  to  speak  of 
false  presentations,  if  the  distinction  between  true  and 
false  was  denied,  &c.  But  if  we  ask  where  is  truth 
to  be  sought,  Antiochus  answers:  In  that  upon 
which  all  important  philosophers  are  agreed ;  and  in 
order  to  prove  that  there  was  really  such  agreement  in 
all  more  important  questions,  he  sets  forth  an  exposi- 
tion of  the  Academic,  Peripatetic,  and  Stoic  systems, 
which  was  intended  to  show  that  these  three  schools 
differed  from  one  another  in  subsidiary  points  and 
expressions  rather  than  in  essentials.  In  this,  however, 
he  was  unable  to  succeed  without  much  inaccuracy. 
His  own  interest  lay  chiefly  in  ethics.  In  these  he 
sought  a  middle  path  between  Zeno,  Aristotle,  and 
Plato ;  as,  for  instance,  when  he  said  that  virtue  was  in- 
deed sufficient  for  happiness,  but  for  the  highest  degree 
of  happiness  bodily  and  external  goods  were  requisite. 
It  was  made  a  reproach  against  him  that  he  called 
himself  an  Academician,  but  was  rather  a  Stoic.  In 
truth  he  is  neither,  but  an  Eclectic. 

After  the  death  of  Antiochus,  as  is  shown  by  Cicero 
('Acad.'  ii.  4,  11)  and  ^Enesidemus  (ap.  Phot.  'Cod.' 
212,  p.  170,  14),  this  mode  of  thought  continued  to  pre- 
v-.il  in  the  Academy.  The  head  of  the  school  down  to 


282  ECLECTICISM.  [§  81 

51  B.C.  was  Aristus,  the  brother  of  Antiochus,  who  was 
followed  apparently  by  Theomnestus.  Ere  long,  how- 
ever, the  preference  for  Pythagorean  speculation  (cf. 
§  92)  was  connected  with  it.  Towards  the  end  of  the 
first  century  B.C.  we  find  this  preference  in  Eudorus,  an 
Eclectic  with  the  ethics  of  a  Stoic,  and  somewhat  later 
in  Thrasylms  (died  36  A.D.).  Arius  Didymus,  the 
tutor  of  Augustus,  was  counted  a  member  of  the  Stoic 
school,  but  the  existing  portions  of  his  work  in  which 
he  gave  a  sketch  of  the  more  important  philosophical 
systems,  are  composed  so  entirely  after  the  manner  of 
Antiochus  that  the  Stoic  and  Academician  are  merely 
distinguished  by  name. 

The  Alexandrian  Potamo  is  also  mentioned  by 
Snidas  (Ti.ordp.wv]  as  a  contemporary  of  Augustus,  and 
rightly,  in  spite  of  Diog.  '  Prooem.'  21.  This  philo- 
sopher called  his  school  the  Eclectic.  What  we  have  of 
his  teaching,  which  was  a  superficial  combination  of 
the  thoughts  of  others,  reminds  us  chiefly  of  Antiochus. 

§  82.     The  Peripatetic  School. 

This  Eclecticism  was  less  prevalent  among  the  con- 
temporaneous Peripatetics.  Andronicus  of  Rhodes,  who 
about  65-50  B.C.  was  at  the  head  of  the  Peripatetic 
school  at  Athens,  with  the  aid  of  the  grammarian 
Tyrannic,  published  an  edition  of  the  works  of  Ari- 
stotle. He  also  made  researches  into  their  genuineness, 
and  wrote  commentaries  on  some.  These  publications 
gave  the  impulse  to  that  earnest  study  of  Aristotle,  to 
which  the  Peripatetic  school  was  henceforth  dedicated. 


S  82]  PERIPATETICS.  888 

It  was  a  necessary  result  of  this  occupation  with  the 
writings  of  their  founder  that  views  which  were  not  his 
could  not  easily  be  ascribed  to  him.  Yet  neither  Andro- 
nicus  nor  his  disciple  Boethus  of  Sidon  (who,  by  contro- 
verting immortality  and  in  other  points,  represents  a 
naturalistic  view  of  the  Peripatetic  doctrine)  surrendered 
his  own  judgment  in  favour  of  Aristotle.  In  the  same 
manner  Xenarchus  (under  Augustus)  controverted  the 
Aristotelian  doctrine  of  the  aether.  Staseas  of  Naples 
(first  third  of  the  first  century  B.C.),  Aristo,  and  Oat- 
ippus,  who  passed  from  the  school  of  Antiochus  to  the 
Peripatetic,  Nicolaus  of  Damascus  (born  about  64  B.C.), 
and  others,  are  not  more  particularly  known  to  us  as 
philosophers.  Who  the  Peripatetic  was,  who  (about 
50  B.C.)  defended  the  eternity  of  the  world  in  a 
treatise  which  has  come  down  to  us  in  Philo's  name 
with  Judaising  additions,  we  do  not  know. 

That  even  in  the  Peripatetic  school  there  were 
some  who  were  prepared  to  adopt  alien  elements  into  ' 
the  doctrines  of  Aristotle,  is  shown  by  two  treatises  in 
our  Aristotelian  collection — the  book  *  De  Mundo,'  and 
the  small  tractate  on  '  Virtues  and  Vices.'  The  latter 
is  nearer  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  virtue  than  the  Ari- 
stotelian, but  it  nevertheless  appears  to  be  the  work  of  a 
Peripatetic.  The  book  '  De  Mundo '  is  from  the  hand  of 
a  Peripatetic  who,  in  any  case,  wrote  after  Posidonius, 
whose  meteorology  he  has  freely  used.  The  work  chiefly 
aims  at  a  combination  of  the  Aristotelian  theism  with  the 
Stoic  pantheism  by  the  assumption  that  God  is  indeed 
in  his  essence  outside  the  world,  and  far  too  sublime 
to  occupy  himself  with  it  in  detail,  but,  on  the  othei 


284  ECLECTICISM.  [§ « 

hand,  he  fills  the  whole  with  his  power  and  operation, 
and  to  this  extent  the  predicates,  which  the  Stoics  arc 
accustomed  to  ascribe  to  him,  are  essentially  his.  In 
this  Plato,  Heracleitus,  and  Orpheus  agree. 


§  83.  Cicero.     Varro.     The  Sextians. 

The  eclecticism  of  the  last  century  B.C.  is  expressed 
in  a  peculiar  manner  among  the  Eoman  philosophers 
of  this  period,  of  whom  M.  Tullius  Cicero  is  the  most 
distinguished  name  in  history  (106-43  B.C.)  He  does 
not  owe  his  prominent  position  to  the  acuteness  and 
independence  of  his  own  thought,  but  simply  to  the 
skill  with  which  he  could  set  forth  the  doctrines  of  the 
Greeks — superficial  as  his  acquaintance  with  them  was 
— in  a  clear  and  intelligent  manner  for  the  contemporary 
and  succeeding  generation  of  Latin  readers.  Cicero  con- 
siders himself  one  of  the  New  Academicians,  and  gladly 
follows  the  school  in  the  habit  of  discussing  both  sides 
of  a  question  without  any  final  decision.  But  the  chief 
motive  of  his  doubt  lies  less  in  the  scientific  grounds 
which  he  borrows  from  the  Academicians,  than  in  the 
conflict  of  philosophical  authorities ;  and  to  the  degree 
that  this  difficulty  can  be  removed,  he  is  from  the  first 
inclined  to  abandon  an  attitude  of  doubt.  If,  therefore, 
he  believes  that  he  must  despair  of  knowledge  in  the 
complete  sense,  probability  attains  for  him  a  higher 
importance  than  fer  Carneades  ;  and  on  the  points 
which  have  most  interest  for  him,  moral  principles  and 
the  theological  and  anthropological  questions  con- 
nected therewith,  he  speaks  with  great  decision.  H« 


§83]  CICERO,    VARRO.  966 

»s  convinced  that  correct  conceptions  on  these  points 
have  been  implanted  in  us  by  nature ;  that  they  can 
be  immediately  derived  from  our  own  consciousness 
and  confirmed  by  universal  agreement.  The  views 
which  he  acquires  on  this  foundation  are  neither 
original  nor  free  from  variation.  However  decisively 
he  opposes  Epicureanism  in  his  ethics,  yet  he  fails 
to  find  a  sound  footing  between  the  Stoic  and  the 
Academic-Peripatetic  doctrines ;  and  while  he  delights 
himself  with  the  sublimity  of  the  Stoic  principles,  he 
cannot  accept  the  narrow,  one-sided  views  inseparable 
from  them.  In  theology,  he  is  serious  in  maintaining 
the  existence  and  providence  of  God ;  in  psychology, 
the  immortality  of  the  soul  and  the  freedom  of  the 
will ;  yet  he  does  not  venture  to  pronounce  decisively 
on  the  nature  of  Grod  and  our  spirit ;  and  if  in  general 
he  places  himself  on  the  side  of  the  Platonic  spiritual- 
ism, he  cannot  always  withdraw  himself  from  the 
influence  of  the  Stoic  materialism.  He  stands  in  no 
intimate  relation  to  the  national  religion  as  such,  yet 
in  the  interest  of  the  community  he  wishes  to  retain 
it,  while  removing  all  superstition  as  far  as  possible. 

Closely  connected  with  Cicero  is  his  friend  M. 
Terentius  Varro  (116-27  B.C.),  who,  however,  was  far 
more  of  a  scholar  than  a  philosopher.  A  disciple  of  An- 
tiochus,  whom  he  has  to  represent  in  Cicero  (*  Acad. 
Post.'),  he  follows  his  lead  in  ethics  (ap.  Aug.  '  Civ. 
Dei,'  xix.  1-3),  which  he  considers  the  most  im- 
portant part  of  philosophy;  but,  like  him,  he  often 
approaches  the  Stoics  and  even  the  Stoic  materialism. 
In  his  theology  he  adheres  still  more  closely  to  the 


286  ECLECTICISM.  [§  «fi 

Stoics,  especially  to  Pansetius,  in  describing  the  Deity 
as  the  soul  of  the  universe,  and  worshipping  under  the 
gods  of  polytheism  the  powers  of  this  soul  which 
operate  in  various  parts  of  the  world.  On  the  other 
hand,  he  adopts  the  division  of  a  triple  theology  (p.  255), 
and  the  sharp  polemic  against  the  mythology  of  the 
poets.  He  even  publicly  disapproved  of  important 
parts  of  the  common  religion. 

An  offshoot  from  the  Stoa  meets  us  in  the  school 
which  was  founded  about  40  B.C.  by  Q.  Sextius,  a 
Roman  of  good  family,  and  subsequently  conducted  by 
his  son,  after  whom  it  soon  became  extinct.  A  mem- 
ber of  this  school  was  Sotion  of  Alexandria,  who  about 
18-20  A.D.  was  the  teacher  of  Seneca,  Cornelius 
Celsus,  Fabianus  Papirius,  and  L.  Crassitius.  So  far  as 
we  know  these  men,  we  find  them  to  be  moral  philo- 
sophers who  expressly  represent  the  Stoic  principles, 
but  they  owe  the  impression  which  they  made  rather 
to  the  weight  of  their  own  personality  than  to  any 
eminent  scientific  qualifications.  In  Sotion  we  find 
Pythagorean  elements  in  combination  with  Stoic.  He 
based  the  abstinence  from  animal  food,  which  his 
master  had  recommended  on  general  grounds,  on  the 
doctrine  of  the  migration  of  souls.  If  the  Sextians 
explained  the  soul  as  incorporeal,  they  must  have  been 
influenced  to  some  degree  by  Plato. 

§  84.  The  First  Centuries  A.D.     The  Stoic  School. 

The  mode  of  thought  which  had  prevailed  in  the 
last  century  B.C.  among  the  majority  of  philosophers, 
with  the  exception  of  the  Epicureans,  was  retained 


584]  .    LATER  STOICS.  287 

during  the  centuries  immediately  succeeding.  But 
more  and  more  there  was  connected  with  it  a  pre- 
ference for  those  theological  speculations,  which  finally 
•ended  in  Neo-Platonism.  The  separation  of  the  schools 
not  only  continued  ;  it  was  confirmed  by  the  vigorous 
study  of  Aristotelian  and  Platonic  writings,  and  re- 
ceived an  official  recognition  when  Marcus  Aurelius 
(176  A.D.)  established  endowed  chairs  at  Athens  for  the 
four  leading  schools  (two,  as  it  seems,  for  each).  But 
that  the  same  importance  was  no  longer  attached  to 
their  contrasts  as  before,  is  shown  directly  in  the  com- 
bination of  various  doctrines  which  we  frequently 
meet  with,  and  more  especially  in  the  wide-spread  in- 
clination to  return  to  the  practical  results  of  philo- 
sophy upon  which  men  would  most  easily  agree, 
though  differing  in  their  scientific  views. 

Of  the  numerous  Stoics  of  imperial  times  whoso 
names  are  known  to  us,  the  following  may  be  men- 
tioned here: — Heracleitus,  the  author  of  the  Homeric 
Allegories,  which  are  still  in  existence,  and  who  was 
apparently  a  contemporary  of  Augustus ;  Attalus,  the 
teacher  of  Seneca;  Chseremon,  an  Egyptian  priest, 
the  tutor  of  Nero;  Seneca  (see  infra)  and  his  con- 
temporaries, L.  Annaeus  Cornutus  of  Leptis  (from 
whom  we  have  a  treatise  on  the  gods),  A.  Persius 
Flaccus,  and  M.  Annaeus  Lucanus,  the  nephew  of 
Seneca  (39-65  A.D.);  Musonius  Rufus,  and  his  dis- 
ciple Epictetus  (see  infra) ;  Euphrates  (celebrated  by 
his  disciple  Pliny  the  younger),  who  took  poison  when 
he  had  reached  a  great  age,  118  A.D.  ;  Cleomedes,  the 
author  of  an  astronomical  handbook,  under  Hadrian  or 


288  ECLECTICISM.  [§84 

Antoninus  Pius  ;  and  the  Emperor  Marcus  Aurelius 
Antoninus.  But  among  these,  so  far  as  we  know,  only 
Seneca,  Musonius,  Epictetus,  and  Marcus  exhibit  re- 
markable qualities,  while  Heracleitus,  Cornutus,  and 
Cleomedes  merely  continued  the  tradition  of  their 
school. 

L.  Annseus  Seneca  (born  at  Corduba  soon  after  the 
beginning  of  our  era,  the  tutor  of  Nero,  and  for  a 
long  time  his  adviser,  with  Burrhus,  till  he  put  himself 
to  death  at  the  emperor's  command,  65  A.D.)  did  not 
oppose  the  doctrine  of  his  school  in  any  important 
point.  Yet  if  we  compare  his  philosophy  with  the  old 
Stoic,  an  altered  spirit  breathes  through  it.  In  the 
first  place,  he  confines  himself  essentially  to  morals. 
He  is  acquainted  with  the  Stoic  logic,  but  has  no  in- 
clination to  occupy  himself  with  it  in  detail.  He 
extols  the  sublimity  of  the  Physics,  and  in  his 
Naturalea  Quccstiones  he  adopts  the  meteorology  of 
Posidonius,  but  in  this  department  it  is  only  such 
theological  or  anthropological  determinations  as  can 
be  realised  in  practice  which  have  a  deeper  interest 
for  him.  Without  contradicting  the  Stoic  materialism 
and  pantheism,  he  takes  an  especial  delight  in  bring- 
ing forward  the  ethical  traits  of  the  Stoic  idea  of  God, 
on  which  rests  the  belief  in  providence.  In  anthropo- 
logy also  he  gives  attention  to  the  kinship  of  the 
human  spirit  with  God,  and  the  life  after  death.  Yet 
his  moral  teaching  is  not  exactly  coincident  with  the 
old  Stoic,  whose  principles  and  rules  of  life  he  repeats. 
Seneca  is  too  deeply  penetrated  with  the  weakness  and 
sinfulness  of  men,  in  his  lively  descriptions  of  which 


§84]  SENECA.  389 

he  often  strikingly  resembles  the  apostle  Paul,  to  be 
able  to  meet  moral  requirements  with  the  self-con- 
fidence of  the  original  Stoicism.  As  he  despairs  of 
finding  a  wise  man  in  this  world  or  becoming  wise 
himself,  he  is  inclined  to  lower  his  demands  to  the 
level  of  men.  Earnestly  as  he  demands  that  by  moral 
labour  we  should  make  ourselves  independent  of  all 
externals,  and  zealous  as  are  his  praises  of  this  inde- 
pendence, he  nevertheless  frequently  ascribes  a  greater 
value  to  external  goods  and  evils  than  was  permitted 
to  the  stricter  Stoics.  If  he  lays  decisive  weight  on 
the  natural  connection  of  men  in  the  manner  of  his 
school,  yet  each  individual  state,  as  compared  with  the 
great  state  of  humanity  and  the  world,  seems  to  him 
less  worthy  of  the  notice  of  the  wise  man  than  wag 
the  case  with  the  older  Stoics.  In  his  cosmopolitanism, 
the  softer  traits,  sympathy  and  compassion,  are  more 
strongly  marked  than  with  them.  Lastly,  the  reflex 
effect  of  his  morals  on  his  anthropology  and  his  theo- 
logy is  remarkable.  The  more  painfully  that  he  feels 
the  power  of  sensuality  and  the  passions,  the  more  do 
we  find  him,  in  spite  of  his  materialism,  strongly  accen- 
tuating the  opposition  of  body  and  soul.  In  many 
passages  he  expresses  a  yearning  for  freedom  from  the 
bonds  of  the  body,  and  praises  death  as  the  beginning 
of  true  life  in  a  manner  which  is  more  Platonic  than 
Stoic.  For  the  same  reason  he  distinguishes  with 
Posidonius  (and  Plato)  a  rational  and  two  irrational 
parts  in  the  soul  itself  (the  principale,  rjys/jMvitcov). 
The  higher  the  value  that  he  ascribes  in  the  oattle 
between  reason  and  sensuality  to  the  thought  that  this 


290  ECLECTICISM.  [§ « 

reason  is  the  divine  element  in  man,  its  law  the  will  of 
the  deity,  the  more  distinctly  must  he  distinguish  the 
Deity  also,  as  the  operative  power,  from  the  inert 
matter.  That  the  Deity  receives  his  true  worship  only 
through  purity  of  life  and  knowledge  of  (rod,  not  by 
sacrifices,  only  in  the  sanctuary  of  the  breast,  not  in 
temples,  is  expressly  stated  by  Seneca,  who  also,  as  a 
worthy  representative  of  Roman  Stoicism,  attacks  in 
the  most  relentless  manner  the  improprieties  of  my- 
thology and  the  superstition  of  the  existing  worship 
(p.  254). 

Musonius  Rufus  of  Volsinii  occupied  himself  even 
more  distinctly  with  morals — a  Stoic  who  enjoyed  great 
respect  as  a  teacher  of  philosophy  at  Rome  under  Nero 
and  the  Flavii.  Numerous  fragments  remain  of  his 
lectures,  which  were  preserved  by  Pollio.  According  to 
Musonius,  virtue  is  the  only  object  of  philosophy :  men 
are  moral  invalids ;  the  philosopher  is  the  physician 
who  is  to  heal  them.  Virtue  is  far  more  a  matter  of 
practice  and  education  than  of  teaching ;  the  disposi- 
tion to  it  is  born  in  us  and  can  easily  be  developed  into 
conviction ;  the  chief  matter  is  the  application  of  this 
conviction.  Hence  the  philosopher  requires  few  scien- 
tific propositions.  He  ought  to  show  us  what  is  in 
our  power  and  what  is  not.  But  the  application  of  our 
notions  is  in  our  power,  and  nothing  else.  On  this  alone, 
then,  rest  our  virtue  and  happiness ;  everything  else  is 
something  indifferent,  to  which  we  must  surrender 
ourselves  unconditionally.  In  the  application  of  these 
principles  to  life  we  meet  with  a  moral  teaching  which 
is  pure,  and  in  some  points  inclining  to  Stoic  sim- 


§84J  MUSONIUS,  EPICTETUS.  291 

plicity,  humane,  and  gentle  even  to  offenders.  But 
powerful  as  the  effect  of  the  lectures  of  Musonius  was 
upon  his  audience,  they  do  not  seem  to  have  contained 
anything  new  in  regard  to  science. 

The  pupil  of  Musonius  was  Epictetus  of  Hierapolis, 
who  lived  at  Rome  (partly  under  Nero),  first  as  a  slave, 
then  as  a  freedman,  and  went  to  Nicopolis  in  Epirus 
in  94  A.D.,  when  Domitian  expelled  all  the  philosophers 
from  Rome.  Here  he  was  attended  by  Flavius  Arria- 
nus,  who  drew  up  a  sketch  of  the  contents  of  his 
lectures.  Like  his  teacher,  he  sees  the  object  of 
philosophy  simply  in  education  to  virtue,  in  healing 
moral  vices.  If  in  general  he  presupposes  the  Stoic 
system  as  the  basis  for  this,  yet  he  not  only  ascribes 
little  value  to  dialectical  investigations,  but  even  in 
physics  there  are  but  few  points  which  he  re- 
quires to  establish  his  moral  rules.  Such  are  the 
belief  in  the  Deity  and  his  care  for  men;  in  the 
rationality  of  the  universe  and  its  course ;  in  'the  kin- 
ship of  the  divine  and  human  spirit,  which  spirit,  in 
spite  of  his  materialism,  he,  like  Seneca,  opposes 
almost  in  a  dualistic  manner  to  the  body,  though  he 
does  not  maintain  its  personal  continuance  after  death. 
His  moral  teaching  can  dispense  the  more  easily  with 
a  great  systematic  apparatus,  as  he  believes  with 
Musonius  that  the  general  principles  of  morality  are 
implanted  in  us  by  nature.  Only  one  thing,  he  says 
with  Musonius,  is  in  our  power,  our  will — the  use  of 
our  notions.  On  this  alone,  according  to  Epictetus, 
rests  our  happiness;  everything  else  he  treats  as  so 


292  ECLECTICISM.  [$  84 

indifferent  that  the  distinction  between  what  is  to  be 
desired  and  rejected  has  scarcely  any  importance  for  him. 
If  in  this  respect  he  approaches  Cynicism,  he  ugrees 
with  it  entirely  in  his  views  of  marriage  and  civic  lifej 
and  depicts  the  true  philosopher  as  a  Cynic.  On  the 
other  hand,  he  inculcates  not  merely  an  unconditional 
surrender  to  the  course  of  the  world,  but  also  the  most 
comprehensive  and  unlimited  philanthropy ;  and  he 
establishes  this  more  particularly  by  reference  to  the 
Deity  and  the  equal  relation  in  which  all  men  stand 
to  him.  In  general  his  philosophy  has  a  religious 
character.  The  philosopher  is  a  servant  and  mes- 
senger of  the  Deity ;  and  though  he  takes  up  a  free 
position  towards  the  national  religion,  he  is  rather  an 
earnest  preacher  of  morality  full  of  pious  enthusiasm 
than  a  systematic  philosopher. 

The  noble  Marcus  Aurelius  Antoninus  (born  121 
A.D.,  associated  in  the  government  138,  Caesar  161,  died 
180),  agrees  with  Epicurus,  whose  admirer  he  was,  in 
his  general  view  of  Stoicism,  in  his  disinclination  to  all 
theoretic  inquiries,  in  his  religious  view  of  things,  and 
in  absorption  in  his  own  self-consciousness.  The 
belief  in  the  divine  providence,  whose  regard  for  men 
is  shown  not  only  in  the  whole  direction  of  the  world, 
but  also  in  extraordinary  revelations,  inclines  him  to 
be  content  with  all  that  the  order  of  nature  brings 
with  it  and  that  the  gods  ordain.  Insight  into  the 
change  of  all  things,  and  the  decay  of  the  individual, 
teaches  him  to  desire  nothing  external  as  a  good  and 
fear  nothing  as  an  evil.  In  his  conviction  of  the  divine 
origin  and  nature  of  the  human  spirit,  he  finds  thf 


§84]  MARCUS  AURELIUS.  293 

demand  that  he  shall  worship  the  spirit  in  his  own 
heart  only  and  seek  his  happiness  from  him.  In  the 
recognition  of  the  sameness  of  human  nature  in  all 
men  he  finds  the  impulse  to  the  most  boundless  and 
unselfish  philanthropy.  What  distinguishes  Marcus 
Aurelius  from  Epictetus  is  not  only  the  difference  in 
his  view  of  political  activity,  which  arose  from  his 
position,  but  more  especially  the  fact  that  the  reflex 
action  of  ethical  dualism  on  anthropology  and  meta- 
physics, which  was  noticeable  in  Posidonius  and  Seneca 
(pp.  279,  289),  is  more  strongly  marked  in  Aurelius. 
If  he  allows  the  soul  to  return  to  the  Deity  some  time 
nfter  death,  yet  he  is  rather  a  Platonist  than  an  Old-Stoic 
when  he  distinguishes  the  spirit  (yovs)  or  the  ^JS/JLOVIK^V 
as  the  active  and  divine  principle,  not  merely  from  the 
body,  but  also  from  the  soul,  or  Pneuma,  and  says  of 
(lod  that  he  beholds  the  spirits  free  from  their  cor- 
poreal veils,  inasmuch  as  his  reason  is  in  direct  contact 
with  their  effluences.  Here  we  see  Stoic  materialism 
about  to  pass  into  Platonic  dualism. 


§  85.  The  Later  Cynics. 

We  must  regard  as  a  more  one-sided  form  of  this 
Stoic  moral  philosophy  the  Cynicism  which  makes  its 
appearance  soon  after  the  beginning  of  our  era.  The 
more  that  the  scientific  elements  of  the  Stoic  philosophy 
were  thrown  into  the  background  as  compared  with 
practical  requirements,  the  nearer  did  it  approach  to 
the  Cynicism  from  which  it  arose.  The  more  melan- 
choly the  moral  and  political  conditions  which  followed 


294  ECLECTICISM.  II 86 

the  last  century  of  the  Eoman  Republic,  the  more 
necessary  did  it  appear  to  meet  the  corruption  and 
distress  of  the  time  in  the  strange  but  yet  effectual 
manner  of  the  ancient  Cynics.  Varro  in  his  Menip- 
pean  Satires  had  already  conjured  up  their  shades  in 
order  to  tell  the  truth  to  his  contemporaries  in  the 
coarsest  language.  The  letters  of  Diogenes '  appear 
intended  to  support  a  real  renewal  of  the  Cynic  school. 
But  it  is  in  Seneca,  who  greatly  extols  Demetrius  among 
the  Cynics  of  his  time,  that  we  can  tirst  definitely  prove 
it.  Among  those  who  came  after,  the  most  prominent 
were:  GEnomaus  of  Gadara,  under  Hadrian;  De- 
monax,  who  died,  nearly  one  hundred  years  old,  in 
Athens  about  1 60  A.D.  ;  Peregrinus,  later  called  Proteus, 
who  publicly  burnt  himself  in  165  in  Olympia,  and  his 
disciple  Theagenes.  But  this  school,  though  re: nark- 
able  in  the  history  of  culture,  has  only  an  indirect 
importance  for  the  history  of  science,  as  the  expression 
of  widespread  views.  Even  in  the  best  of  its  repre- 
sentatives, Cynicism  was  not  free  from  many  excesses, 
and  it  often  served  as  a  pretext  for  a  vagabond,  dirty 
life,  for  immoral  conduct,  and  a  gratification  of  vanity 
by  ostentatious  display  intended  to  excite  attention. 
Hardly  any  of  these  later  Cynics  struck  out  new 
thoughts.  Demetrius,  and  even  Peregrinus  in  spite 
of  his  eccentricities,  express  the  moral  principles  which 
through  the  Stoics  had  long  become  common  property. 
Deinonax,  an  Eclectic-Socratic  in  his  philosophy,  en- 

1  Marcks,  Sym  b.  Orit.  ail  Epi-    probability   in  the   time  of  &~* 
ttnlogr.   Gra-c.  12   f.,  places   (he     gustua. 
date  of  their  origin  wiib  great 


§86J  LATER   CYNICS.  »6 

joyed  general  respect  owing  to  his  geutle,  affectionate, 
and  humane  character.  GEnomaus,  in  the  fragments 
of  his  treatise  *  against  the  jugglers  '  (yoiJTwv  <f>o)pd\ 
makes  a  severe  attack  on  the  oracles,  and  in  con- 
nection therewith  defends  the  freedom  of  the  will 
against  the  Stoics.  But  none  of  these  men  are  known 
by  any  scientific  service.  It  is  for  the  very  reason 
that  we  have  here  to  deal  with  a  mode  of  life  rather 
than  scientific  views  that  this  later  Cynicism  is  so 
little  influenced  by  the  change  of  philosophical  sys- 
tems. Outliving  all  the  schools  except  the  Neo- 
Platonists,  it  continued  into  the  fifth  century  and 
could  count  adherents  even  in  the  beginning  of  the 
sixth. 

§  86.  The  Peripatetic  School  in  the  Christian 
Period. 

The  Peripatetic  school  was  inclined  towards  a 
general  amalgamation  with  the  Nee-Platonic  in  the 
direction  which  had  been  struck  out  by  Andronicus. 
We  have  only  fragments  of  its  history  in  this  period. 
The  most  memorable  among  the  adherents  with  whose 
names  we  are  acquainted  are  the  following  :  about  50 
A.D.  Alexander  of  ^Egse,  a  teacher  of  Nero ;  and  about 
the  same  time,  apparently,  Sotion,  and  perhaps  Achaecus 
also;  under  Hadrian,  Aspasius  and  Adrastus,  one  of 
the  most  distinguished  Peripatetics;  about  150-180, 
Herminus ;  about  180,  Aristocles  of  Messene  and 
Sosigenes,  an  excellent  mathematician ;  about  200, 
Alexander  of  Aphrodisias.  The  activity  of  these  men 
seems  to  have  consisted  almost  exclusively  in  the 


296  ECLECTICISM.  [f  «6 

exposition  of  the  Aristotelian  writings  and  the  defence 
of  the  Aristotelian  doctrine.  What  is  occasionally 
remarked  of  them  rarely  shows  any  considerable  de- 
viation from  the  views  of  Aristotle.  But  that  the 
Peripatetics,  even  in  this  later  period,  did  not  entirely 
exclude  views  which  were  originally  strange  to  their 
school,  is  shown  by  the  example  of  Aristocles.  If  this 
distinguished  Peripatetic  assumed  that  the  divine 
spirit  (vovs)  inhabited  the  entire  corporeal  world,  and 
operated  in  it,  and  that  it  became  an  individual  human 
spirit  wherever  it  found  an  organism  adapted  to  receive 
it,  yet  he  treated  the  Deity,  after  the  Stoic  manner, 
as  the  soul  of  the  world,  which  was  also  the  view  taken 
by  the  Peripatetics,  according  to  his  contemporary 
Athenagoras  ('Supplic.'  c.  5).  This  approximation  to 
the  Stoic  pantheism  was  not  shared  by  the  disciple  of 
Aristocles,  Alexander  of  Aphrodisias,  the  famous  *  Com- 
mentator.' But  well  as  he  was  acquainted  with  Ari- 
stotle's doctrine  and  successfully  as  he  defended  it,  he 
deviates  in  important  points  from  too  naturalistic  a  view 
of  its  determinations.  He  not  only  follows  Aristotle  in 
regarding  the  individual  being  as  something  substan- 
tial, but  he  also  adds — thereby  differing  from  Aristotle 
— that  the  individual  was  earlier,  in  itself  (<£i;o-«),  than 
the  universal,  and  that  general  concepts  exist  as  such 
in  our  minds  only,  their  real  object, being  individual 
things.  Moreover,  in  mankind  he  brings  the  higher 
part  of  the  soul  nearer  to  the  lower,  by  separating  the 
*  active  vovs  '  from  the  human  soul,  and  explaining  it 
by  the  divine  spirit  working  upon  the  soul.  Thus 
men  only  bring  a  capacity  for  thought  into  life  fa 


§86J    PERIPATETICS  IN  THE  CHRISTIAN  ERA.    25>7 

potential  vovs),  and  it  is  only  in  the  progress  of  life 
that  this,  under  the  operation  described,  becomes 
'acquired  vovs?  In  connection  with  this  theory  he 
absolutely  denies,  like  Aristotle,  the  immortality  of  the 
soul.  Finally,  he  refers  providence  entirely  to  nature 
(<£>ro-iy)  or  to  the  power  which  spreads  from  the  upper 
spheres  to  the  lower,  and  from  this  mode  of  activity 
he  excludes  any  regard  for  the  good  of  man.  After 
Alexander  we  do  not  know  of  any  important  teacher  of 
the  Peripatetic  philosophy  as  such  :  the  chief  seat  of 
Aristotelian  studies,  even  before  the  end  of  the  third 
century,  is  the  Neo- Platonic  school,  and  even  if  in- 
dividuals like  Themistius  (§  101)  preferred  to  be 
called  Peripatetics  rather  than  Platonists,  they  were  in 
part  merely  exponents  of  Aristotle  and  in  part  Eclectics. 


§  87.     The  Platonists  of  the  First  Century  AJ>. 

The  chief  support  of  Eclecticism  continued  to  be 
the  Platonic  school.  The  most  remarkable  members 
in  the  first  two  centuries  of  our  era  are :  Ammonius, 
an  Egyptian,  who  taught  in  Athens  about  60-70  A.D. ; 
his  pupil  Plutarch  of  Chseronea,  the  well-known  philo- 
sopher and  biographer,  whose  life  appears  to  fall 
approximately  between  48  and  125  A.D.  ;  Gaius,  Cal- 
visius  Taurus  (a  pupil  of  Plutarch),  Theo  of  Smyrna, 
who  taught  under  Hadrian  and  Antoninus  Pius ; 
Albinus,  the  pupil  of  Gaius,  who  was  attended  by 
Galen  in  Smyrna  about  152,  and  his  contemporaries 
Nigrinus,  Maximua  of  Tyre,  and  Apulems  of  Madaura  ; 
\tticus,  who,  like  Numeniu*,  Cronius,  the  well-known 


298  ECLECTICISM.  [t  87 

opponent  of  Christianity,  Celsus,  and  no  doubt  Severua 
also,  belongs  to  the  reign  of  Marcus  Aurelius.  About 
the  time  of  this  emperor  lived  also  Harpocration,  the 
pupil  of  Atticus.  Part  of  these  Platonists  at  any  rate 
would  not  hear  of  the  displacing  of  the  genuine 
Platonism  by  foreign  elements.  This  aversion  must 
have  been  supported  by  the  circumstance  that  even 
the  Academicians  after  Plutarch,  and  no  doubt  earlier 
also,  followed  the  pattern  of  the  Peripatetics  in  devot- 
ing special  attention  to  the  writings  of  their  founder 
(cf.  p.  14).  Thus  Taurus  not  only  wrote  against  the 
Stoics,  but  also  on  the  difference  of  the  Platonic  and 
Aristotelian  doctrines  ;  and  Atticus  was  a  passionate 
opponent  of  Aristotle.  Yet  the  first  denied  the  origin 
of  the  world  in  time,  and  if  the  second  contradicted 
Aristotle  in  this  as  in  other  respects,  yet  he  approached 
the  Stoics  in  his  assertions  about  the  sufficiency  of  virtue, 
and  his  one-sided  practical  conception  of  philosophy. 
The  majority  of  the  Academicians  continued  to  follow 
the  eclectic  direction  given  by  Antiochus.  But  this 
was  accompanied  more  and  more  by  those  Neo-Pytha- 
gorean  speculations  which  meet  us  in  Plutarch,  Max- 
imus,  Apuleius,  Numenius,  Celsus,  and  others  (§  92). 
Besides  those  mentioned,  Albinus  is  also  evidence  for 
the  Eclecticism  of  the  school,  whose  sketch  of  the 
Platonic  doctrine  ;  presents  a  marvellous  mixture  of 
Platonic,  Peripatetic,  and  Stoic  theories.  Here  Albinus 
followed  his  teacher  Gaius.  In  the  same  path  we  meet 

1  Preserved  for  us  in  a  revised     that  it  belongs  to  Albinus,  H& 
excerpt  under  the  name  of  '  Alci-     lenitt.  Stud.  3.  H. 
nous.'    Freudenthal    has  shown 


§87]      PLATOXISTS  OF  THE  FIRST  CENTVRY.     299 

Severus  also,  so  far  as  we  know  him,  and  thus  the 
preponderance  of  this  mode  of  thought  in  the  school 
cannot  be  doubted. 

§  88.  Dio,  Lucian,  and  Galen. 
Dio,  Lucian,  and  Galen  did  not  consider  themselves 
members  of  any  special  school,  but  all  three  wished  to 
pass  for  philosophers.  We  shall  allow  the  term  most 
readily  to  Galen.  Dio,  surnamed  Chrysostom,  the 
Bithynian  rhetorician,  who  was  banished  from  Rome 
by  Domitian  and  protected  by  Trajan,  put  on  the 
cynic  garb  after  his  banishment;  but  his  '  philosophy ' 
does  not  go  beyond  a  popular  morality  which,  though  in 
its  contents  meritorious,  is  without  scientific  character. 
It  adheres  chiefly  to  Stoic  doctrines  and  principles. 
Lucian  of  Sainosata,  a  rhetorician  like  Dio — his  fruitful 
career  as  a  writer  coincides  approximately  with  the 
second  half  of  the  second  century — is  the  opponent  of 
all  school  philosophy,  and  attacks  the  Cynics  especially 
with  his  satire.  What  he  calls  philosophy  is  a  collec- 
tion of  moral  precepts,  to  which  he  is  the  more  inclined 
to  confine  himself  as  he  considers  theoretic  questions  to 
be  insoluble.  Claudius  Galenus  of  Pergamum  (131-201 
A.D.),  the  famous  physician,  occupied  himself  far  more 
seriously  with  philosophy.  He  devoted  numerous 
treatises  to  the  subject,  of  which  the  greater  part  are  lost. 
An  opponent  of  Epicurus  and  of  Scepticism,  and  making 
Aristotle  his  favourite,  though  not  altogether  satisfied 
with  him,  he  combines  with  the  Peripatetic  doctrine 
much  that  is  Stoic  and  something  that  is  Platonic. 
Besides  the  senses,  the  trustworthiness  of  which  Galep 


300  ECLECTICISM.  [§  M 

undertakes  to  defend,  a  second  source  of  knowledge  is 
recognised  in  the  truths  which  are  immediately  certain 
to  the  intelligence.  The  adaptation  of  means  to 
ends  in  the  world  is  strongly  maintained,  but  Galen 
ascribes  little  value  to  deeper  speculative  questions, 
though  his  expressions  are  not  always  consistent.  Such 
speculations  are  not  of  much  importance  for  life  and 
action.  His  Ethics,  also  so  far  as  we  know  them,  con- 
tain only  older  theories  borrowed  from  various  schools. 

n.    THE  LATER  SCEPTICS. 
§  89.     jEneddemus  and  his  School. 

Though  the  Eclecticism  of  Antiochus  succeeded  in 
driving  Scepticism  from  the  Academy,  its  chief  abode, 
the  victory  was  not  final.  As  Eclecticism  had  arisen 
out  of  the  fact  that  the  attacks  of  the  Sceptics  had 
destroyed  confidence  in  philosophical  systems,  this 
mistrust  of  all  dogmatic  convictions  continued  to  be 
its  presupposition,  and  it  was  inevitable  that  it  should 
again  take  the  form  of  a  sceptical  theory.  Yet  this  later 
scepticism  was  long  in  attaining  the  influence  and 
extent  which  has  been  enjoyed  by  the  Scepticism  of 
the  Academy. 

This  last  school  of  Greek  Sceptics  (which  called 
itself  an  ayajyij  not  a  aipstris)  wished  to  be  considered 
a  descendant  of  the  Pyrrhonists,  not  of  the  Academi- 
cians. When  the  Pyrrhonists  became  extinct  in  the 
third  century,  the  school  was  revived,  as  we  are  told, 
by  Ptolemseus  of  Gyrene ;  his  pupils  were  Sarpedon 
and  Heracleides.  The  pupil  of  Heracleides  was  JEne- 


§89]  MNESIDEMU&  801 

sidemus,  a  native  of  Cnossus,  who  taught  in  Alexandria. 
But  as  these  new  Pyrrhonists  laboured  in  vain  to 
point  out  any  serious  difference  between  their  doctrine 
and  that  of  the  New  Academy,  the  influence  of  the 
latter  on  /Euesidemus  and  his  successors  is  undeniable. 
What  was  the  relation  of  Ptolemaeus  and  Sarpedon  to 
the  Academy  we  do  not  know,  or  whether  they  set  forth 
their  theory  on  the  same  general  terms  as  ^Enesi- 
demus.  Aristocles  (cf.  Eus.  'Prsep.  Ev.'  xiv.  18,  22) 
calls  ^EnesidtM  msthe  reviver  of  the  Pyrrhonian  Scepti- 
cism. Besides  the  Academic  and  Pyrrhonian  doctrine 
the  school  of  the  *  empiric  '  physicians  was  also  doubt- 
less a  sharer  in  it,  to  which  several  of  the  leaders  of  the 
new  Pyrrhonists  belonged.  If  this  school  desired  to 
limit  itself  to  the  empiric  knowledge  of  the  operation 
of  cures,  and  held  the  inquiry  into  the  causes  of  sickness 
to  be  aimless,  this  principle  had  only  to  be  generalised 
to  end  in  universal  scepticism. 

If  the  list  of  the  sceptical  diadochi  in  Diog.  ix.  116 
is  complete,  iEnesidemus  can  hardly  have  come  forward 
before  the  beginning  of  the  Christian  era.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  L.  Tubero,  to  whom,  according  to 
Photius, '  Cod.'  212,  p.  169, 31,  his  '  Pyrrhonic  speeches ' 
are  dedicated,  is  regarded  as  the  youthful  friend  of 
Cicero— who,  however,  denies  the  existence  of  a 
Pyrrhonic  school  in  his  time — we  must  carry  him  half 
a  century  back. 

jEnesidemus  agrees  in  all  that  is  essential  with 
Pyrrho.  As  we  can  know  nothing  of  the  real  nature 
of  things,  and  equally  good  grounds  can  be  brought 
forward  against  every  assumption,  we  ought  not  to 


902  ECLECTICISM.  [§  *> 

maintain  anything,  not  even  our  own  experience.  By 
this  means  we  acquire  the  true  pleasure,  the  repose  of 
spirit  (arapa^ia).  So  far  as  we  are  compelled  to  act, 
we  must  partly  follow  custom  and  partly  our  own 
feelings  and  needs.  These  principles  JSnesidemus 
sought  to  establish  by  a  detailed  criticism  of  prevailing 
opinions  and  views  in  his  II  vpfxoveiot  \6yo^  in  which, 
among  other  matters,  he  controverts  at  length  the 
conclusion  of  the  causes  of  things.  His  main  grounds 
of  proof  are  collected  on  the  ten  « Pyrrhonean  tropes,' 
which  all  unite  in  the  aim  of  setting  forth  the  rela- 
tivity of  all  our  presentations  of  things,  but  carry  out 
this  thought  almost  exclusively  in  regard  to  sensuous 
perceptions.  If  Sextus  Empiricus  and  Tertullian, 
apparently  on  the  same  authority,  mention  that 
.Enesidemus  wished  his  scepticism  merely  to  serve  as 
a  preparation  for  the  Heracleitean  physics,  this  is 
beyond  doubt  a  mistake,  which  arose  from  the  fact  that 
the  statements  of  ^Enesidemus  about  Heracleitus  were 
confounded  with  his  own  point  of  view. 

Of  the  eight  successors  of  ^Enesidemus  in  the  leader- 
ship of  the  school  whose  names  have  come  down  to  us 
— Zeuxippus,  Zeuxis,  Antiochus,  Menodotus,  Theodas, 
Herodotus,  Sextus,  Saturninus — Sextus  only  is  further 
known.  On  the  other  hand,  we  hear  that  Agrippa  re- 
duced the  ten  tropes  of  ^Enesidemus  to  five  —we  do  not 
know  when — and  these  five  in  turn  are  reducible  to 
three  chief  points :  the  contradiction  of  opinions ;  the 
relativity  of  perceptions ;  and  the  impossibility  of  a 
demonstration  which  does  not  move  in  a  circle,  or 
proceed  from  presuppositions  which  are  not  proved. 


§  89]  S1MPLICIU8.  308 

Others  went  yet  further  in  simplification,  and  were 
contented  with  two  tropes :  men  could  not  know  any- 
thing from  themselves,  as  is  proved  by  the  contradiction 
of  opinions,  nor  from  others,  for  they  must  first  get  their 
knowledge  from  themselves.  How  much  scepticism 
from  this  time  forth  was  concerned  with  an  exhaustive 
contradiction  of  dogmatism  is  shown  by  the  writings 
of  Sextus,  who  as  an  empiric  physician  (p.  301),  was 
known  as  Empiricus,  and  appears  to  have  been  a 
younger  contemporary  of  Galen,  so  that  he  falls  in 
the  period  about  180-210  A.D. 

We  possess  thrte  treatises  by  Simplicius,  of  which 
the  second  and  third  are  usually  comprehended  under 
the  unsuitable  title  '  Adversus  Mathematicos.'  These 
treatises  are  the  Pyrrhonic  Hypotyposes,  the  tractate 
against  the  dogmatic  philosophers  ('  Adv.  Math.' 
vii.-xi.)  and  that  against  the  f^aOripara^  grammar, 
rhetoric,  mathematics  ('Adv.  Math.' i.-vi.).  There  is 
no  doubt  that  Sextus  borrowed  by  far  the  greatest  part 
of  the  materials  of  his  work  partly  from  older  members 
of  his  school,  and  partly  after  their  pattern  from  the 
Academicians,  more  especially  from  Carneades  (Clito- 
machus).  The  latest  name  mentioned  in  his  main 
work  ('  Math.'  vii.-xi.)  is  that  of  ^Enesidemus.  Hence 
his  discussions  can  be  considered  as  a  combination  of  all 
that  was  usually  brought  forward  in  his  school  to  defend 
their  point  of  view.  In  his  discussions  on  the  criterion, 
truth,  demonstration,  and  the  marks  of  proof,  &c.,  he 
controverts,  often  with  wearisome  discursiveness  and, 
for  reasons  of  different  value,  the  formal  possibility  of 
knowledge.  He  attacks  the  concept  of  the  cause  in 


904  ECLECTICISM.  [$  W 

every  possible  application ;  but  it  is  just  the  question  of 
the  origin  of  this  concept  which,  like  his  predecessors, 
he  leaves  out  of  sight.  He  repeats  Carneades'  criticism 
of  the  Stoic  theology,  applying  it  to  meet  the  notions 
of  the  operative  cause.  He  also  finds  the  material 
cause,  or  bodies,  inconceivable  in  every  respect.  He 
criticises  the  ethical  assumptions,  repeating  that  of 
the  good  and  happiness  in  order  to  show  that  know- 
ledge is  unattainable  on  this  ground.  Finally,  from 
these  and  other  considerations  he  draws  the  conclusions 
which  had  long  been  acknowledged,  that  owing  to  the 
balance  of  the  pros  and  cons  (the  ia-ocOsveia  rwv 
\dya>v),  we  must  forego  all  decision  and  renounce  all 
knowledge,  and  by  this  means  only  can  we  attain  to 
repose  and  happiness,  which  it  is  the  aim  of  all  philosophy 
to  acquire.  This,  however,  is  not  to  prevent  us  from 
allowing  ourselves  to  be  led  in  our  actions,  not  only  by 
perceptions,  our  natural  impulses,  law,  and  custom,  but 
also  by  experience.  Experience  instructs  us  in  the 
ordinary  course  of  things,  and  puts  us  in  a  position  to 
form  certain  regulations  for  life. 

The  scepticism  of  ^Enesidemus  spread  but  little 
beyond  the  limits  of  his  school,  the  last  successor  in 
which  (Saturninus)  must  have  belonged  to  the  first 
quarter  of  the  third  century.  The  only  other 
sharer  in  his  opinions  that  we  can  prove  is  the 
rhetorician  and  historian  Favorinus  of  Arelate,  whose 
life  may  be  placed  approximately  in  80-150  A.D.  But 
as  an  indication  of  scientific  feeling,  this  mode  of 
thought  has  a  more  general  importance,  and  we  can- 
not fail  to  recognise  how  much  it  aided  from  the 


5  89]  ASESIDEMUS  AND  HIS  SCHOOL.  305 

beginning  in  developing  the  eclecticism  of  the  time 
into  Neo-Pythagorean  and  Neo-Platonic  speculation. 

HI.  THE  PRECURSORS  OF  NEO-PLATONISM. 

§  90.  Introduction. 

In  a  period  in  which  much  greater  weight  was  laid 
on  the  practical  effect  of  philosophy  than  on  scientific 
knowledge  as  such — in  which  a  deep  mistrust  of  man's 
capacity  of  knowledge  widely  prevailed,  and  there  was 
a  general  inclination  to  accept  truth,  when  found,  on 
the  basis  of  practical  necessity,  and  a  direct  convic- 
tion of  it,  even  at  the  cost  of  scientific  consistency — 
in  such  a  period  only  a  slight  impulse  was  needed  in 
order  to  lead  the  spirit  in  its  search  for  truth  beyond  the 
limits  of  natural  knowledge  to  a  supposed  higher  foun- 
tain. This  impulse  Greek  thought  appears  to  have 
received  through  that  contact  with  Oriental  views,  of 
which  Alexandria  was  the  centre.  The  main  part  on 
the  Oriental  side  was  played  by  Judaism,  the  ethical 
monotheism  of  which  offered  far  more  points  of  contact 
to  Hellenic  philosophy  than  the  mythology  of  the 
national  religions.  According  to  all  appearance  it  was  at 
Alexandria  that  the  speculation  first  came  forward,  which, 
after  centuries  of  slow  development,  finally  ended  in 
Neo-Platonism.  The  last  motive  in  this  speculation  was 
the  yearning  after  a  higher  revelation  of  the  truth ;  its 
metaphysical  presupposition  was  an  opposition  of  God 
and  the  world,  of  spirit  and  matter,  as  intermediaries 
between  which  men  took  refuge  in  demons  and  divine 


«06          PRECURSORS  OF  NEO-PLATONISM.          [§90 

power.  Its  practical  consequence  was  a  combination 
of  ethics  with  religion,  which  led  partly  to  asceticism 
and  partly  to  the  demand  for  a  direct  intuition  of  the 
Deity.  It  has  already  been  observed  (p.  32)  that  its 
development  took  place  partly  on  Greek  and  partly  on 
Judaic-Hellenistic  soil. 


I.  THE  PURELY  GREEK  SCHOOLS. 

§  91.  The  Neo-Pythagoreans. 
Though  the  Pythagorean  philosophy  as  such  be- 
came extinct  in  the  course  of  the  fourth  century,  or 
amalgamated  with  the  Platonic,  Pythagoreanism  still 
continued  as  a  form  of  religious  life,  and  that  the  Pyth- 
agorean mysteries  spread  widely  is  proved  by  other  evi- 
dence, and  more  especially  by  the  fragments  of  the  poets 
of  the  middle  comedy.  It  was  about  the  beginning  of 
the  first  century  B.C.,  and  apparently  at  Alexandria, 
that  the  attempt  was  made  to  give  a  new  life  to  the 
Pythagorean  science,  now  extended  and  enriched  by 
later  doctrines.  The  earliest  demonstrable  evidence 
for  these  efforts  is  to  be  found  in  the  interpolated 
Pythagorean  treatises :  the  semi-Stoic  exposition  of  the 
Pythagorean  doctrines,  of  which  Alexander  Polyhistor 
(about  70  B.C.)  gives  us  an  account  in  Diog.  viii.  24  f.; 
the  treatise  of  the  so-called  Lucanus  Ocellus  on  the 
universe,  which  was  known  to  Varro,  and  the  preambles 
to  the  laws  of  Zaleucus  and  Charondas  quoted  by 
Cicero  ('  Legg.'  ii.  6,  1 4).  In  the  later  period  a  mass 
of  such  supposed  old  Pythagorean,  but  really  Neo- 
Pythagorean  treatises,  is  mentioned  (about  ninety,  by 


§91J  THE  NEO-PYTHAOOPEANS.  307 

more  than  fifty  authors),  and  many  fragments  of  them 
have  come  down  to  us,  among  which  those  of  Archytas 
are  pre-eminent  in  number  and  importance.  The  first 
adherent  of  the  Neo-Pythagorean  school  whose  name 
we  know  is  the  friend  of  Cicero,  the  learned  P.  Nigi- 
dius  Figulus  (died  45  B.C.),  who  was  joined  by  P. 
Vatinius.  The  school  of  the  Sextii  (p.  286)  also  stood  in 
connection  with  the  new  Pythagoreans ;  definite  traces 
of  their  existence  and  their  doctrines  are  found  up  to 
the  time  of  Augustus  in  Arius  Didymus  and  Eudorus 
and  in  King  Juba  II.'s  predilection  for  Pythagorean 
writings.  In  the  second  half  of  the  first  century  A.D. 
we  find  Moderatus  of  Gades  and  Apollonius  of  Tyana. 
Both  were  writers  in  their  cause,  and  Apollonius 
traversed  the  Koman  world  in  the  part,  or  at  any  rate 
with  the  reputation,  of  a  wizard.  Under  Hadrian 
Nicomachus  of  Gerasa  composed  the  work  of  which  we 
possess  parts;  Numenius  (§  92)  appears  to  have  lived 
under  the  Anton  ines,  and  Philostratus  belonged  to  the 
first  third  of  the  third  century  (p.  310). 

In  the  doctrines  by  which  these  new  Pythagoreans 
Bought  to  establish  the  moral  and  religious  principles 
of  their  sect,  we  find  connected  with  the  old  Pythagorean 
views  and  the  Platonic  intuitions,  which  were  still  more 
important  in  this  school,  something  borrowed  from  the 
Peripatetics  and  Stoics.  This  philosophy  thus  bears 
an  eclectic  character,  like  that  of  the  contemporary 
Academicians,  and  within  the  common  tendency  we 
find  many  deviations  in  details.  Unity  and  quality 
(£vas  dopitrros)  are  declared  to  be  the  final  bases.  The 
first  is  regarded  as  the  form,  the  second  as  the  matter. 


308          PRECURSORS  OF  NEO-PLATONISM.         [§»1 

But  while  a  part  of  the  Pythagoreans  explained  unity 
to  be  the  operative  cause,  or  the  Deity,  others  dis- 
tinguished the  two,  and  the  Deity  was  partly  described 
as  the  moving  cause  which  brought  form  and  matter 
together,  as  in  the  Platonic  Timseus,  and  partly  as  the 
One,  which  then  produced  derived  unity  and  duality. 
The  latter  is  a  form  of  doctrine  which  unites  the  Stoic 
monism  with  the  Platonic-Aristotelian  dualism,  and 
thus  prepares  the  way  for  Neo-Platonism.  The  same 
contrast  is  repeated  in  the  assertions  about  the  relation 
of  God  and  the  world.  One  section  regard  the  Deity 
as  higher  than  the  reason,  and  place  it  so  far  above  all 
that  is  finite,  that  it  cannot  enter  into  direct  contact 
with  anything  that  is  corporeal ;  others  describe  Grod 
as  the  soul  which  permeates  the  whole  body  of  the 
world,  and  follow  the  Stoics  in  describing  this  soul  as 
warmth,  or  pneuma.  The  formal  principle  was  thought 
to  comprehend  all  numbers,  with  which  the  ideas  are 
now  considered  exactly  identical.  But  the  importance 
of  the  separate  numbers  was  a  matter  of  much  fanciful 
speculation  in  the  school  in  which  the  ordinary  mathe- 
matics were  eagerly  studied.  Yet  even  here  the  new 
Pythagoreans  deviated  from  the  old  as  well  as  from 
PJato.  They  regarded  the  ideas  or  numbers  as  thoughts 
of  the  Deity.  Hence  they  wished  them  to  be  regarded 
not  as  the  substance  of  things,  but  only  as  the 
original  forms,  after  which  they  were  fashioned.  The 
Platonic  descriptions  of  matter  were  taken  literally; 
the  world-soul  was  placed  between  matter  and  the 
ideas  as  Plato  had  placed  it,  and  the  so-called  Locrian 
Timaeus  adopted  the  Platonic  construction  of  the  soul. 


§91]  THE  NED-PYTHAGOREANS.  80'J 

Besides  metaphysics  every  other  part  of  philosophy 
was  treated  in  the  Neo-Pythagorean  writings.  A  proof 
of  the  logical  activity  of  the  school  can  be  found,  among 
other  works,  in  the  pseudo-Archytean  treatise  *  On  the 
Universe,'  which  treats  the  doctrine  of  the  Categories 
mainly  after  the  Aristotelian  pattern,  but  with  many 
deviations.  In  their  physics  the  Neo-Pythagorean s 
primarily  follow  Plato  and  the  Stoics.  They  extol  the 
beauty  and  perfection  of  the  world,  which  are  not  in- 
jured by  the  evil  in  it,  and  above  all,  they  regard  the 
stars  as  visible  deities.  From  Aristotle  they  borrowed 
the  doctrine  of  the  eternity  of  the  world  and  the  human 
race,  a  tenet  which  was  universally  maintained  in  the 
school  from  the  time  of  Ocellus ;  they  also  chiefly 
follow  Aristotle  in  their  assertions  about  the  contrast 
of  the  heavenly  and  earthly  worlds,  the  unchangeable- 
ness  of  the  one,  and  the  changeability  of  the  other. 
With  Plato  and  the  old  Pythagoreans  magnitudes  of 
space  are  derived  from  the  numbers,  and  the  elements 
from  the  regular  bodies ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  we 
also  meet,  in  Ocellus,  with  the  Aristotelian  doctrine  of 
the  elements.  The  anthropology  of  the  school  is  that 
of  Plato ;  in  this  matter  the  Pythagorean  Alexander  (p. 
306)  alone  places  himself  on  the  side  of  Stoic  material- 
ism. The  soul  is  regarded  with  Xenocrates  as  a  number 
moving  its  ;lf,  and  other  mathematical  symbols  are  used 
for  it :  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  the  parts  of  the  soul, 
its  pre-existence  and  immortality,  is  repeated ;  but  so 
far  as  we  know,  the  migration  of  the  soul  is,  strangely 
enough,  thrown  into  the  background  among  the  Neo- 
Pythagoreans,  while  the  belief  in  demons  plays  \\\\ 


3JO         PRECURSORS  OF  NEO-PLATONISM.  [§  91 

important  part  among  them.  Nicomachus  even  brings 
the  demons  into  connection  with  the  angels  of  the 
Jews. 

The  existing  fragments  of  the  numerous  ethical  and 
political  writings  of  the  school  present  only  colourless 
repetitions  of  Platonic  and  still  more  of  Peripatetic 
determinations,  with  proportionately  few  additions  from 
the  Stoics.  The  peculiarity  of  the  Neo-Pythagorean 
school  is  more  definitely  marked  in  their  religious 
doctrines.  On  the  one  hand,  we  find  a  more  refined  idea 
of  God,  and  in  reference  to  the  highest  god  the  demand 
for  a  purely  spiritual  worship ;  on  the  other,  the  national 
worship  is  presupposed,  a  higher  value  is  ascribed  to 
prophecy,  and  a  purity  of  life  required,  to  which  belong 
the  abstinences  common  in  the  Pythagorean  mysteries. 
This  element  is  developed  more  strongly  in  their  de- 
scriptions, which  set  forth  the  ideal  of  Neo-Pythagorean 
philosophy  in  Pythagoras  and  Apollonius  of  Tyana,  and 
which  we  find  in  the  notices  of  the  biographies  of  Pytha- 
goras written  by  Apollonius,  Moderatus,  and  Nicomachus, 
and  in  the  *  Life  of  Apollonius '  by  Philostratus  ( writ  ten 
about  220  A.D.).  Here  philosophy  appears  as  the  true  re- 
ligion, the  philosopher  as  a  prophet  and  servant  of  God. 
The  highest  mission  of  mankind,  the  only  means  for 
liberating  the  eoul  from  the  entanglements  of  the  body 
and  sensuality,  is  purity  of  life  and  true  worship  of  the 
gods.  If  this  view  is  accompanied  by  noble  ideas  of 
the  Deity  and  a  virtuous  life  devoted  to  the  good  of 
mankind,  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  asceticism  is  an 
essential  part  of  it.  In  its  full  extent  this  asceticism 
comprises  abstinence  from  flesh  and  wine,  and  from 


§W]  THE  NED-PYTHAGOREANS.  311 

marriage  j  the  linen  dress  of  the  priests  ;  the  forbidding 
of  all  oaths,  and  animal  offerings ;  and  within  the 
societies  of  ascetics  and  philosophers,  community  of 
goods  and  all  the  other  arrangements  ascribed  by  the 
ancient  legend  to  the  old  Pythagoreans.  The  most 
obvious  reward  of  this  piety  consists  in  the  power  of 
working  miracles,  and  in  the  prophetic  knowledge  bor- 
dering on  omniscience,  proofs  of  which  abound  in  the 
biographies  of  Pythagoras  and  Apollonius. 

§  92.     The  Pythagorising  Platoniste. 

The  tendency  of  thought,  which  was  first  announced 
in  the  appearance  of  the  new  Pythagoreans,  afterwards 
found  an  echo  among  the  Platonists,  from  whom  the 
Pythagoreans  had  originally  borrowed  the  most  impor- 
tant part  of  their  doctrines.  Eudorus  (p.  282)  is  seen 
to  be  influenced  by  them ;  they  occur  more  definitely 
in  Plutarch  (p.  297 ),  who  was  the  most  influential  repre- 
sentative in  the  first  century  A.D.  A  Platonist,  who  is 
nevertheless  open  to  the  influence  of  the  Peripatetic, 
and  in  some  details  even  of  the  Stoic,  philosophy,  in 
spite  of  all  his  polemics  against  their  principles,  and  to 
whom  the  Epicurean  school  only  is  absolutely  abhorrent, 
Plutarch  accepts  Plato's  teaching  almost  entirely  in 
the  sense  of  the  Neo-Pythagoreans  who  preceded  him. 
He  ascribes  but  little  value  to  theoretic  questions  as 
such,  and  even  doubts  the  possibility  of  their  solution. 
The  more  lively,  on  the  contrary,  is  his  interest  in 
everything  which  is  of  importance  for  the  moral  and 
religious  life.  He  opposed  the  Stoic  materialism  and 
the  Epicurean  ' atheism'  (aBsSrvji)  no  less  than  the 


812          PRECURSORS  OF  NEO-PLATONISM.         [«& 

national  superstition  with  a  pure  view  of  the  Deity  corre- 
sponding to  Plato's.  But  in  order  to  explain  the  nature 
of  the  world  of  phenomena  he  finds  a  second  principle 
indispensable.  This  he  does  not  seek  in  matter,  which 
is  without  properties,  but  in  the  evil  world-soul,  which, 
being  connected  with  matter  from  the  beginning,  and 
first  filled  with  reason  and  order  at  the  formation  of 
the  world,  was  changed  into  the  divine  soul  of  the  world, 
yet  continues  to  exercise  an  influence  as  the  final  source 
of  all  evil.  Deviating  from  the  majority  of  the  Neo- 
Pythagoreans,  he  conceives  the  creation  of  the  world 
as  an  act  in  time.  The  divine  operation  in  the  world 
he  regards  less  under  the  form  of  the  Platonic  doctrine 
of  ideas  and  the  Pythagorean  speculation  on  numbers 
than  under  the  ordinary  belief  in  providence.  Contro- 
verting Epicurus,  and  the  fatalism  of  the  Stoics,  he 
attributes  the  highest  value  to  this  belief.  But  the 
higher  that  he  has  elevated  the  Deity  above  all  that  is 
finite  the  more  important  are  the  demons  as  the 
intermediaries  in  its  operation  on  the  world.  To  these 
he  transfers  everything  which  he  does  not  venture  to 
ascribe  directly  to  the  Deity,  and  he  has  much  that  is 
superstitious  to  say  about  them.  That  he  not  only 
assumes  five  elements,  but  also  a  quintette  of  worlds,  is 
a  trait  peculiar  to  him.  What  Plato  stated  in  mythical 
language  about  a  change  of  the  condition  of  the  world 
is  accepted  by  him  in  so  dogmatic  a  manner  that  he 
here  approaches  the  Stoic  teaching  which  he  elsewhere 
controverts.  Certain  Aristotelian  theories  were  mingled 
with  the  Platonic  anthropology ;  freedom  of  the  will 
and  immortality,  including  the  migration  of  souls,  are 


§92]  PLUTARCH.  313 

distinctly  maintained.  The  Platonic  and  Peripatetic 
ethics  were  defended  by  Plutarch  against  the  different 
theories  of  the  Stoics  and  Epicureans,  and  applied  to 
the  various  relations  of  life  in  a  pure,  noble,  and  moder- 
ate way.  In  this  it  is  natural  that  we  should  find  an 
influence  of  Stoic  cosmopolitanism,  and  a  limitation  of 
political  interests,  owing  to  the  nature  of  the  times. 
The  most  characteristic  mark  of  the  Plutarchian  ethics 
is  their  close  connection  with  religion.  Pure  as  Plu- 
tarch's idea  of  God  is,  lively  as  are  his  descriptions  of  the 
perverseness  and  corruptions  of  superstition,  yet  in  the 
warmth  of  his  religious  feelings  and  the  small  confi- 
dence which  he  reposes  in  man's  power  of  knowledge, 
he  cannot  abandon  the  belief  that  the  Deity  comes  to 
our  assistance  by  direct  revelations.  These  we  receive 
the  more  clearly  in  proportion  as  we  are  freed  by  enthu- 
siasm from  any  activity  on  our  own  part.  At  the  same 
time  he  takes  into  Consideration  the  natural  conditions 
and  helps  for  these  revelations,  and  thus  his  theory 
makes  it  possible  for  him  to  justify  the  belief  of  his 
people  in  prophecy  in  the  manner  which  had  long 
been  usual  among  the  Stoics  and  Neo-Pythagoreaus. 
His  general  attitude  to  the  national  religion  is  the  same. 
The  gods  of  the  different  nations  are,  as  he  says,  only 
different  names  to  denote  one  and  the  same  divine 
nature,  and  the  powers  which  serve  it.  The  contents  of 
the  myths  form  philosophical  truths,  which  Plutarch 
could  enucleate  from  them  with  al  the  traditional 
caprice  of  allegorical  exposition.  Shocking  and  disgust- 
ing as  many  religious  usages  might  be,  yet  his  doctrine 
of  demons,  if  no  other  means  sufficed,  enabled  him  tc 


314  PRECVXSO&8   OF  NEO-PLATONISM.          [§  M 

find  superficial  justification  for  them.     Yet  he  did  not 
require  the  Pythagorean  asceticism. 

Along  with  Plutarch  we  find  among  the  later  Plato- 
nists  (p.  297)  two  rhetoricians  of  kindred  spirit,  Maxi- 
mus  and  Apuleius,  in  whose  eclectic  Platonism,  beside 
the  opposition  of  (rod  and  matter,  the  demons  play  a 
great  part  as  intermediaries  in  the  contrast.  Theo  of 
Smyrna  shared  in  the  Neo-Pythagorean  doctrine  of  the 
original  bases  and  of  numbers.  The  eternity  of  the 
world,  the  assumption  that  the  ideas  are  the  thoughts 
of  the  Deity,  the  demons,  to  whose  protection  the  world 
beneath  the  moon  is  confided,  meet  us  in  Albinus ; 
the  evil  world-soul  of  Plutarch  in  Atticus.  Celsus, 
like  his  predecessors,  sees  in  demons  the  intermediaries 
of  the  divine  operation  on  the  world,  which  cannot  be 
direct  owing  to  the  sublimity  of  God,  and  the  opposi- 
tion in  which  he  stands  to  matter.  He  makes  use  of 
this  assumption  in  order  to  defend  polytheism  and  the 
national  worship.  Numenius  of  Apamea  (about  160 
A.D.)  is  still  nearer  to  the  Neo- Pythagoreans,  and  ia 
generally  considered  to  be  one.  Yet  the  foundation 
of  his  views  is  formed  by  Platonism,  besides  which, 
>vith  wide-extending  syncretism,  he  appeals  toMagians, 
Egyptians,  and  Brahmins,  and  even  to  Moses,  whom  he 
holds  in  high  repute  (Plato  is  a  MONTHS  arriKifav). 
He  also  appears  to  have  used  Philo  of  Alexandria  and 
the  Christian  Gnostics.  Beginning  with  the  distinction 
of  God  and  matter,  of  unity  and  indefinite  duality 
(p.  307),  he  makes  the  gulf  between  the  two  so  great 
that  he  considers  a  direct  operation  of  the  highest 
ieity  on  matter  as  impossible,  and  hence  (Jike  the 


592]       NUMENIUS,  HERMES  TR1SMEGISTUS.       315 

Gnostic  Valentiims),  he  inserts  between  them  the 
creator  of  the  world,  or  Demiurge,  as  a  second  deity. 
The  world  itself  he  called  a  third  deity.  Like  Plu- 
tarch he  supposed  that  an  evil  soul  was  united  with 
matter.  From  this  arose  the  mortal  part  of  the  human 
soul,  which  he  named  a  second,  irrational  soul.  De- 
graded from  an  incorporeal  life,  by  its  guilt,  into  the 
body,  the  soul,  when  it  again  departs,  becomes  indis- 
solubly  united  with  the  Deity,  if  it  is  in  need  of  no 
migration  through  other  bodies.  Insight  is  a  gift  of  the 
gods,  and  for  men  the  highest  good.  This  gift  is  only 
allotted  to  him  who  applies  himself  to  the  primal  good, 
to  the  exclusion  of  all  other  thoughts.  Cronius  and 
Harpocration,  so  far  as  we  know,  tended  in  the  same 
direction  as  Numenius. 

An  Egyptian  branch  of  the  Neo-Pythagorean  and 
Platonic  school  is  the  source  from  which,  apparently 
towards  the  end  of  the  third  century,  the  majority  of  the 
writings  arose  which  have  come  down  to  us  under  the 
name  of  Hermes  Trismegistus.  Here  also  we  find  the 
expression  of  that  which  is  the  leading  trait  of  the 
school — the  effort  to  fill  up  the  chasm  between  the  world 
and  the  Deity  by  intermediate  creatures.  The  highest 
deit}  is  raised  above  both  as  the  author  of  being  and 
reason.  He  is  the  good,  which  is  also  thought  of  as  a 
willing  and  thinking  being,  as  a  personality.  The  vovs 
is  related  to  him  as  the  light  to  the  sun,  being  at  the 
same  time  different  and  inseparable  from  him.  On  the 
vovs  depends  the  soul  (more  doubtfully  $uo-ts),  between 
which  and  matter  stands  the  air.  When  matter  was 
arranged  and  animated  by  the  Deity,  the  world  wa? 


816          PRECURSORS  OF  NEO-PLATONISM.         [§  9* 

created.  Supported  by  the  divine  power,  filled  with 
visible  and  invisible  gods  and  demons,  the  world  is 
regarded  as  the  second  god,  and  man  as  the  third. 
The  unalterable  course  of  the  world,  providence,  and 
destiny  were  taught  in  the  Stoic  fashion  ;  the  Platonic 
anthropology  is  repeated  with  many  additions,  which 
do  not  altogether  agree  with  it.  The  only  means  to 
secure  for  the  soul  its  future  return  to  its  higher  home, 
is  piety,  which  here  coincides  with  philosophy,  and 
consists  essentially  in  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  in 
uprightness.  It  is  obvious  that  this  depends  upon  the 
renunciation  of  the  sensuous  world ;  yet  the  ascetic 
consequences  of  this  point  of  view  are  seen  in  isolated 
instances  only  in  the  Hermetic  writings.  The  more 
strongly  do  we  recognise  as  their  leading  motive  the 
tendency  to  defend  the  national  and  especially  the 
Egyptian  religious  worship  against  Christianity,  the  vic- 
tory of  which  is  already  regarded  as  almost  unavoidable. 

IL  JEWISH   GREEK   PHILOSOPHY. 

|  93.  The  Period  before  PhUo. 

The  dualistic  speculation  of  the  Neo-Pythagoreans 
and  Platonists  developed  among  the  Jews,  who  were 
subject  to  Greek  influences,  even  more  vigorously  than 
on  purely  Greek  soil.  The  Jewish  national  religion  pre- 
sented many  important  points  of  contact  to  this  specula- 
tion, in  monotheism,  in  the  opposition  of  God  and  the 
world,  in  the  belief  in  revelation  and  prophecy,  in  the 
notions  about  the  angels,  the  spirit  of  God,  and  divine 
wisdom.  Even  in  Palestine,  when  the  country  was  first 


§93]  JEWISH-GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  817 

under  Egyptian  and  then  under  Syrian  rule,  the  Greek 
mode  of  life  and  thought  became  so  widely  spread  that 
Antiochus  Epiphanes,  in  his  attempt  to  Hellenise  the 
Jews  by  force  (167  B.C.),  could  count  on  a  numerous 
party,  especially  among  the  higher  classes.  Even  before 
this  date  these  views  seem  to  have  found  acceptance 
(according  to  Ecclesiast.  ix.  2,  vii.  28).  We  find  them 
further  developed  among  the  Essenes.  These  were  a 
society  of  Ascetics  which  arose,  apparently  in  the  de- 
cades following  the  rebellion  of  the  Maccabees,  from 
the  bosom  of  the  law-abiding  but  retiring  Chasidseans, 
a  sect  who  withdrew  from  public  life.  They  exhibit  so 
important  a  relationship  to  the  Neo- Pythagoreans,  that 
we  can  only  assume  that  they  arose  under  the  influence 
of  the  Orphic  Pythagorean  asceticism,  and  subse- 
quently, after  the  formation  of  a  Neo-Pythagorean 
philosophy,  they  adopted  many  of  its  doctrines.  In 
the  first  century  of  our  era,  in  Philo,  Josephus,  and 
Pliny,  the  Essenes  appear  as  a  society  of  about  4,000 
members,  who  lived  together  with  complete  community 
of  goods,  partly  in  their  own  settlements,  partly  in 
houses  belonging  to  their  order  in  the  towns.  They 
were  subject  to  strict  discipline  and  hierarchical  con- 
trol, with  priests  and  officers  of  their  own  and  absolute 
community  of  goods.  They  practised  the  most  extreme 
simplicity ;  their  principles  were  strictness  of  morals, 
truth,  and  unbounded  gentleness;  they  did  not  tolerate 
slavery.  With  this  they  combined  a  purity  of  life  which 
was  expressed  in  peculiar  customs.  They  abstained  from 
wine  and  flesh,  and  from  the  use  of  ointments ;  they  dis- 
approved of  the  killing  of  animals  and  bloody  offerings. 


318          PRECURSORS  OF  NEO-PLATONISM.          [§  93 

They  refused  all  food  which  was  not  prepared  according 
to  the  rules  of  the  order  ;  they  required  celibacy  from 
their  members,  and  even  from  those  of  a  lower  order 
they  demanded  that  they  should  indulge  in  marital 
intercourse  solely  with  a  view  to  the  procreation  of 
children.  They  had  a  most  punctilious  dread  of  any 
Levitic  defilement ;  they  wore  only  white  garments ; 
they  forbade  oaths  ;  they  replaced  the  national  worship, 
from  which  they  were  excluded,  by  their  daily  baths  and 
common  meals.  They  had  their  own  doctrines  and 
rules,  which  were  kept  strictly  secret;  while  they 
adapted  the  Scriptures  of  their  nation  to  their  own 
point  of  view  by  allegorical  interpretation.  They 
believed  in  a  pre-existence  of  the  soul,  and  an  in- 
corporeal life  after  death ;  with  which  they  appear  to 
have  combined  the  thought  that  the  opposition  of  better 
and  worse,  of  male  and  female,  &c.,  ran  through  the 
whole  world.  They  ascribed  a  special  importance  to  the 
belief  in  angels  (as  others  did  to  the  belief  in  demons). 
In  the  sunlight  and  the  elements  they  worshipped 
manifestations  of  the  Deity;  they  considered  the  gift 
of  prophecy  to  be  the  highest  reward  of  piety  and 
asceticism,  and  many  of  them  claimed  to  possess  it. 

But  in  Alexandria,  the  great  centre  where  Hellenic 
and  Oriental  civilisation  met  and  crossed,  Greek  philo- 
sophy found  a  far  more  favourable  soil.  How  early  and 
how  universally  the  numerous  and  opulent  Jewish 
population  in  this  city  acquired  the  Greek  language, 
and  the  Greek  views  which  of  necessity  went  with  it, 
is  shown  by  the  fact  that  after  a  few  generations  the 
Egyptian  Jews  required  a  Greek  translation  of  their 


§98]  JEWISH-GREEK  PHILOSOPHY.  819 

Scriptures,  because  they  no  longer  understood  them  in 
the  original  language.  The  first  certain  proof  of  the 
occupation  of  the  Alexandrian  Jews  with  Greek  philo- 
sophy is  seen  in  the  fragments  of  a  treatise  of  Ari- 
stobulus  (about  150  B.C.  We  have  received  them 
through  Eusebius,  'Pr.  Evang.'  vii.  14,  viii.  10,  xiii. 
1 2.  They  were  without  reason  suspected  by  Lobeck  and 
Hody,  but  were  defended  by  Valckenaer).  This  Jewish 
Peripatetic  assured  King  Ptolemy  Philometor  that  the 
oldest  Greek  poets  and  philosophers,  and  especially 
Pythagoras  and  Plato,  had  used  our  Old  Testament, 
and  in  order  to  procure  evidence  for  this  assertion,  he 
appeals  to  a  series  of  verses  supposed  to  be  the  work  of 
Orpheus  and  Linus,  Homer  and  Hesiod,  which  are, 
however,  shameless  forgeries,  though  neither  Clemens 
nor  Eusebius  detected  them.  On  the  other  hand,  he  at- 
tempts by  interpretation  to  remove  the  anthropo- 
morphisms, which  shock  his  advanced  thought,  from  the 
maxims  and  narratives  of  the  Old  Testament.  What  he 
asserts  of  his  own  views,  so  far  as  it  is  of  philosophical 
origin,  does  not  contain  any  reference  to  that  form  of 
speculation  which  we  find  at  a  later  time  in  Philo.  Of 
this  we  find  definite  traces  for  the  first  time  in  the  first 
century  B.C.  in  the  pseudo-Solomonian  'Book  of  Wisdom,' 
which,  along  with  some  elements  which  agree  with 
Essenism — such  as  the  assertions  on  the  pre-existence  of 
the  soul,  its  oppression  by  the  body,  and  its  imperisha- 
bility (viii.  19  f. ;  ix.  14  tf.  &c.),  and  the  assumption  of 
a  premundane  matter  (xi.  17  f.) — reminds  us  of  the 
Platonists  and  Pythagoreans.  By  its  substantiation  of 
the  divine  wisdom  (vii.  22  ff.)  it  prepared  the  way  for 


820  PRECURSORS  OF  NEO-PLA  TONISM.          [§  93 

Philo*s  doctrine  of  the  Logos.  To  the  same  period 
belong  those  predecessors  of  Philo,  whom  he  frequently 
mentions  when  he  appeals  to  the  rules  of  allegorical 
explanation  which  they  had  laid  down,  and  quotes  some 
of  these  explanations,  in  which  the  'Divine  Logos' 
occurs  along  with  some  Stoic  determinations.  But  we 
do  not  know  whether  and  how  this  Logos  was  distinctly 
divided  from  the  Deity  before  the  time  of  Philo. 

§  94.  Philo  of  Alexandria. 

Philo's  life  falls  between  30  B.C.  and  50  A.D.  He 
was  himself  a  true  son  of  his  nation  and  filled  with  the 
highest  veneration  for  its  Scriptures,  and  above  all 
for  Moses.  These  Scriptures  he  considered  to  be 
verbally  inspired,  not  only  in  the  original  text,  but 
also  in  the  Greek  translation.  But  at  the  same  time 
he  is  the  pupil  and  admirer  of  the  Greek  philosophers, 
Plato  and  Pythagoras,  Parmenides,  Empedocles,  Zeno, 
and  Cleanthes.  Thus  he  is  convinced  that  in  both 
there  is  but  one  and  the  same  truth,  which,  however, 
is  found  in  purity  and  perfection  only  in  the  Jewish 
revelations.  This  conviction  he  justifies  by  the 
ordinary  means.  On  the  one  hand,  he  presupposes 
that  the  Hellenic  sages  used  the  Old  Testament  writings; 
on  the  other,  he  applies  the  allegorical  explanation  of 
Scripture  without  limits,  and  can  thus  discover  any 
meaning  that  he  chooses  in  any  passage  whatever. 
Hence,  although  he  desires  to  be  merely  an  expositor  of 
Scripture,  and  puts  forward  his  views  almost  entirely  in 
this  form,  his  system  is  yet,  in  truth,  a  combination  of 
Greek  philosophy  and  Jewish  theology,  and  the  scien- 


§04]  PHILO  OF  ALEXANDRIA.  821 

tific  parts  come  to  a  preponderant  extent  from  the 
first.  But  the  philosophy  which  he  follows  belongs 
almost  entirely  to  that  form  of  Platonism  which  was 
developed  in  the  previous  century,  primarily  at  Alex- 
andria, and  was  named  sometimes  after  Plato,  and 
sometimes  after  Pythagoras,  though  Stoicism,  especially 
in  Philo,  contributed  largely  to  it. 

The  idea  of  the  Deity  forms  the  starting-point  of 
the  system  of  Philo.  But  this  is  just  the  point  where 
the  various  tendencies,  from  which  his  speculation  has 
arisen,  cross  each  other.  On  the  one  hand,  he  has  such 
a  high  conception  of  the  elevation  of  God  above  all 
that  is  finite,  that  in  his  view  no  idea  and  no  name 
can  correspond  to  the  Divine  majesty.  God  seems  to 
him  more  perfect  than  any  perfection,  better  than  the 
good,  without  name  and  property,  and  inconceivable. 
As  Philo  says,  we  can  only  know  that  he  is ;  we  can- 
not know  what  he  is ;  only  the  name  of  the  Existent 
(the  name  of  Jehovah)  can  be  applied  to  him.  On 
the  other  hand,  God  must  include  in  himself  all  being 
and  all  perfection ;  for  it  is  from  him  alone  that  per- 
fection can  come  to  the  finite,  and  it  is  only  to  avoid 
approaching  too  nearly  tD  his  perfection  that  no 
finite  predicate  is  to  be  given  to  him.  Above  all,  he 
must  be  thought  of  as  the  final  cause  of  all ;  a  cease- 
less operation  must  be  ascribed  to  him,  and  all  per- 
fection in  created  things  derived  from  him.  It  is 
self-evident  that  for  the  Platonists  and  the  Jewish 
monotheists  this  activity  can  only  be  nsed  for  the  best 
ends;  for  of  the  two  essential  properties  of  God, powejr 


322     THE  PRECURSORS  OF  NEO-PLATOXISM.      [§  W 

and  goodness,   the  second  expresses  his  nature  even 
more  directly  than  the  first. 

In  order  to  unite  this  absolute  activity  of  God  in 
the  world  with  his  absolute  superiority  to  the  world, 
Philo  has  recourse  to  an  assumption  which  was  not  un- 
known to  others  in  that  period  (cf.  pp.  283,  312,  315), 
but  which  no  one  before  Plotinus  worked  out  so  system- 
atically as  Philo.  He  assumed  the  existence  of  inter- 
mediate beings.  As  a  pattern  in  defining  these  more 
precisely  he  availed  himself  not  only  of  the  belief  in 
angels  and  demons,  the  statements  of  Plato  about  the 
world-soul  and  the  ideas,  but  above  all,  of  the  Stoic 
doctrine  of  the  effluences  of  the  Deity  which  permeate 
the  world.  These  intermediate  beings  he  calls  powers 
(Swdftsis),  and  describes  them,  on  the  one  hand,  as 
properties  of  the  Deity,  as  ideas  or  thoughts  of  God, 
as  parts  of  the  universal  power  and  reason  prevailing 
in  the  world ;  and  on  the  other,  as  the  servants,  am- 
bassadors, and  pursuivants  of  God,  as  the  performers 
of  his  will,  as  souls,  angels,  and  demons.  To  har- 
monise these  two  modes  of  exposition,  and  give  a  clear 
answer  to  the  question  of  the  personality  of  these 
powers,  was  impossible  for  him.  All  these  powers  are 
comprehended  in  one,  in  the  Logoe.  The  Logos  is  the 
most  universal  intermediary  between  God  and  the 
world,  the  wisdom  and  reason  of  God,  the  idea  which 
comprises  all  ideas,  the  power  which  comprises  all 
powers,  the  viceroy  and  ambassador  of  God,  the  organ  of 
the  creation  and  government  of  the  world,  the  highest 
of  the  angels,  the  first-born  son  of  God,  the  second  God 
(Sevrepos  Oeos,  Osos,  in  opposition  to  o  Beos).  The 


§94]  PH1LO.     THE  LOGOS.  323 

Logos  is  the  pattern  of  the  world  and  the  power  which 
creates  everything  in  it,  the  soul  which  clothes  itself 
with  the  body  of  the  world  as  with  a  garment.  In  a 
word,  it  has  all  the  properties  which  belong  to  the 
Stoic  Logos  (p.  240),  when  we  think  of  this  as  divided 
from  the  Deity  and  set  free  from  the  traits  which  are 
the  result  of  the  Stoic  materialism.  But  its  per- 
sonality is  just  as  uncertain  as  that  of  the  *  powers' 
generally ;  and  this  is  inevitable,  for  only  so  long  as 
the  conception  of  the  Logos  comes  between  that  of  a 
personal  being  distinct  from  God  and  that  of  an  im- 
personal divine  power  or  property,  is  it  adapted  to 
solve,  at  least  superficially,  the  unsoluble  problem,  for 
which  it  is  required — to  make  it  conceivable  that  GTod 
can  be  present  with  his  power  and  operation  in  the 
world  and  all  its  parts,  while  in  his  nature  he  is  utterly 
beyond  it  and  is  denied  by  any  contact  with  matter. 

The  nature  of  the  world  can  only  be  partly  under- 
stood from  the  divine  power  operating  in  it.  In  order 
to  explain  the  evils  and  defects  of  finite  existence,  and, 
above  all,  the  evil  which  clings  to  the  soul  owing  to  its 
connection  with  the  body,  we  must  presuppose  a  second 
principle,  and  this  Philo  finds,  like  Plato,  only  in 
matter.  He  also  follows  Plato  in  his  more  precise 
definitions  of  matter,  except  that  he  regards  it  like 
most  authorities  as  a  mass  occupying  space,  and  thus 
sometimes  names  it  the  p.r)  ov  with  Plato,  and  some- 
times ov<ria  with  the  Stoics.  By  the  mediation  of  the 
Logos  God  formed  the  world  out  of  the  chaotic  mix- 
ture of  matter.  Hence  the  world  had  a  beginning 
though  it  has  no  end.  Like  the  Stoics,  Philo  con- 


324          THE  PRECURSORS  OF  PLATONISM.        [§94 

sidered  the  world  as  entirely  supported  by  the  opera- 
tive  power  of  God,  which  is  seen  in  its  most  glorious 
form  in  the  stars,  which  are  visible  gods.  Its  perfec- 
tion he  defends  in  the  sense  of  the  Stoic  theodicy, 
but  he  does  not  omit  to  give  expression  to  the  thought 
that  all  is  arranged  according  to  numbers,  by  frequent 
application  of  the  numerical  symbolism  of  the  Pyth- 
agoreans. In  his  anthropology,  the  part  of  physics 
to  which  he  ascribes  most  importance,  he  adhered  to 
the  Platonic  and  Pythagorean  tradition  of  the  fall  of 
souls,  the  incorporeal  life  of  the  purified  souls  after 
death,  the  migration  of  those  who  need  purification, 
the  kinship  of  the  human  spirit  with  the  divine,  the 
parts  of  the  soul,  and  the  freedom  of  the  will.  But 
the  most  important  part  with  him  is  the  sharp  contrast 
between  reason  and  sensuality.  The  body  is  the  grave 
of  the  soul,  the  source  of  all  the  evils  under  which  it 
sighs.  By  the  combination  of  the  soul  with  the  body 
there  is  inborn  in  everyone  the  inclination  to  sin,  from 
which  no  one  is  ever  free  from  his  birth  till  his  death. 
Thus  to  be  freed  as  far  as  possible  from  sensuality 
is  the  first  requisite  of  the  Philonian  ethics;  he 
demands  with  the  Stoics  an  apathy,  an  entire  extirpa- 
tion of  all  passions ;  like  them,  he  regards  virtue  only 
as  a  good,  rejects  all  sensual  pleasure ;  he  professes 
Cynical  simplicity,  adopts  their  doctrine  of  virtue  and 
the  passions,  their  description  of  the  wise  man,  the  dis- 
tinction of  the  wise  and  the  proficient,  and  with  them 
acknowledges  himself  a  citizen  of  the  world.  But 
trust  in  God  takes  the  place  of  Stoic  self-confidence. 
,God  alone  works  all  g(*od  in  us.  He  alone  can  plant 


§94]  PHILO.     ETHICS.  825 

virtue  in  us;  only  the  man  who  does  good  for  its 
own  sake  is  truly  good ;  wisdom,  on  which  i  jsts  all 
virtue,  arises  only  out  of  faith.  But  even  in  this 
virtue  Philo  deals  far  less  with  action  than  with 
knowledge,  or  more  correctly,  with  the  inner  life  of  the 
pious  spirit;  for  not  only  does  the  active  (political) 
life  thwart  it,  inasmuch  as  it  entangles  us  in  external 
things  and  withdraws  us  from  ourselves,  but  even 
science  has  only  a  value  for  him  as  a  means  to  piety. 
But  even  religious  perfection  has  also  various  stages.  In 
its  origin  the  (ascetic)  virtue  which  rests  on  practice  is 
lower  than  that  which  is  founded  on  instruction,  and 
both  are  lower  than  the  virtue  which  arises  directly  out 
of  a  divinely-favoured  nature.  Virtue  finds  its  last  and 
highest  aim  in  the  Deity  only,  to  which  we  approximate 
more  and  more  as  we  come  more  immediately  into  con- 
tact with  it.  Indispensable,  therefore,  as  science  may 
be,  we  only  attain  the  highest  when  we  pass  beyond  all 
intermediate  stages — even  the'  Logos — and  in  a  con- 
dition of  unconsciousness,  or  even  of  ecstasy,  receive 
the  higher  illumination  into  ourselves.  Thus  we  see 
the  godhead  in  its  pure  unity  and  allow  it  to  operate 
upon  us.  This  attempt  to  go  beyond  conscious  thought 
had  as  yet  been  unknown  in  Greek  philosophy.  Even 
after  Philo,  two  centuries  elapsed  before  it  was  an 
accepted  dogma. 


THIRD  SECTION. 

NEO-PLATONJ8M. 

f  95.  Origin,  Character,  and  Development  of 
Neo-Platonism. 

THE  views  which  for  centuries  had  become  more 
and  more  exclusively  prevalent  in  the  Platonic  and 
Pythagorean  schools  were  developed  into  a  great 
system  in  the  third  century  of  our  era.  In  the  con- 
struction of  this  system  not  only  the  Platonic  and 
the  Aristotelian  philosophy,  but  even  the  Stoic,  was 
used  to  a  great  extent.  Both  internal  and  external 
reasons  allow  us  to  suppose  that  Philo's  doctrine  also 
had,  directly  or  indirectly,  an  effect  on  its  origin. 
If  the  predecessors  of  Neo-Platonism  had  found  the 
importance  of  philosophy  in  the  fact  that  it  brought 
us  into  connection  with  the  Deity,  and  conducted  us 
to  that  infinite  essence,  elevated  above  all  being  and 
conception,  the  attempt  was  now  made  to  derive  the 
totality  of  finite  things,  including  matter,  from  an 
original  essence  which  was  entirely  unknown  and  in- 
definite. In  this  way  preparation  was  made  for  a 
gradual  elevation  to  this  essence,  which  finally  ended  in 
substantial  union.  The  practical  aim  and  the  final 
motive  of  this  speculation  is  the  same  which  the  Pla- 
tonists  and  Pythagoreans  had  previously  kept  before 
them.  Like  them,  it  proceeds  from  the  opposition  of 
the  finite  and  infinite,  the  spirit  and  matter.  But  not 
only  is  this  contrast  stretched  to  the  most  extreme  point, 


§95]  ORIGIN  OF  NEO-PLATOXISM.  »27 

and  the  unity  with  (rod,  to  which  man  ought  to  attain, 
forced  to  the  very  utmost,  but  it  is  also  required  that 
the  contrast  shall  be  methodically  derived  out  of 
unity  and  the  totality  of  things  conceived  as  a  single 
whole  proceeding  in  regular  succession  from  the  Deity, 
and  returning  into  it.  The  dualistic  spiritualism  of  the 
Platonic  school  is  here  combined  with  the  monism  of 
the  Stoics  to  produce  a  new  result,  though  the  authors 
of  this  speculation  desired  to  be  nothing  else  but  true 
disciples  and  expounders  of  Plato. 

Ammonius  Saccas  is  called  the  founder  of  the 
Neo-Platonic  school.  He  was  at  first  a  day-labourer, 
but  afterwards  became  distinguished  as  a  teacher  of  the 
Platonic  philosophy  at  Alexandria.  He  appears  to  have 
died  about  242  A.D.,  but  he  left  no  writings  behind  him. 
Yet  it  is  only  untrustworthy  accounts  from  the  fifth 
century  (Hierocles,  and  Nemesius  apparently  following 
Hierocles)  who  ascribe  to  him  the  distinctive  doctrines 
of  the  Plotinic  system.  We  are  entirely  without  any 
original  accounts  of  his  doctrine.  Among  his  pupils, 
Origen  (who  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  the  Christian 
theologian  of  the  same  name,  who  is  also  said  to  have 
attended  Ammonius)  did  not  distinguish  the  Deity  from 
the  vovs,  above  which  it  was  placed  by  Plotinus,  and  even 
controverted  its  distinction  from  the  creator  of  the  world 
(p.  315).  A  second  disciple,  Cas-ius  Longinus,  the 
well-known  critic,  philologist,  and  philosopher  (whom 
Aurelian  executed  273  A.D.),  was  equally  at  variance 
with  Plotinus'  conception  of  the  Platonic  doctrine,  and 
defended  against  him  the  proposition  that  the  ideas  exist 
separately,  apart  trom  the  (divine)  vovs.  This  proves 


328  NEO-PI<ATONISM.  [5«v 

that  the  doctrine  of  Ammomus  was  essentially  distinct 
from  that  of  Plotinus,  thougli  it  might  approach  more 
nearly  to  it  than  that  of  the  earlier  Platonists.  The 
real  founder  of  the  Neo-Platonic  school  was  Ploti- 
nus. This  eminent  thinker  was  born  in  204-5  A.D.  at 
Lycopolis  in  Egypt.  For  eleven  years  he  enjoyed  the 
teaching  of  Ammonius.  In  244-5  he  went  to  Rome, 
and  there  founded  a  school,  over  which  he  presided  till 
his  death.  He  was  universally  revered  foi  Lis  character 
and  held  in  high  respect  by  the  Emperor  Gallienus 
and  his  consort  Salonina.  He  died  in  Campania  in  270 
A.D.  His  writings  were  published  after  his  death  by 
Porphyrius  in  six  enneads.1  After  Plotinus,  lamblichus 
and  the  school  of  Athens  mark  the  most  important  point 
in  the  history  of  Neo-Platonism.  By  lamblichus  it  was 
entirely  absorbed  into  the  service  of  positive  religion ; 
by  the  Athenian  school,  with  the  aid  of  the  Aristo- 
telian philosophy,  it  was  transformed  into  a  formal 
scholasticism,  carried  out  with  masterly  logical  skill. 


§.  96.  The  System  of  Plotinus.    The  Superaenauous 
World. 

The  system  of  Plotinus,  like  that  of  Philo,  proceeds 
from  the  idea  of  God,  and  comes  to  a  conclusion  in  the 
demand  for  union  with  God.  Between  these  poles  lies 
all  which  was  taught  on  the  one  hand  about  the  origin 

1  Editions  by  Marsilius  Fid-  (1856) ;  H.  F.  Mttller  (1878).    On 

nua  (1492,  often  reprinted,  finally  the  system  of  Plotinus,  Kircliner, 

at    Basel,  1580,  1615);   Creuzer  Pldl  d.  Plot.  1854;  A.  Richter, 

(Oxford,    1855);    A.    Kirchhoff  A'euplat.Studien.&Uefte,  1864  ft 


5»«]  TLOTTNUS.     THE  DEITY.  820 

of  derived  being  out  of  the  Deity,  and  on  the  other, 
about  its  return  to  the  Deity. 

In  his  conception  of  the  idea  of  God  Plotinus 
carries  to  the  extreme  point  the  thought  of  the 
infinity  of  God,  and  his  elevation  above  the  world. 
Presupposing  that  the  original  must  be  outside  the 
derived,  that  which  is  thought  outside  the  thinker,  the 
one  outside  the  many,  he  sees  himself  compelled  to 
carry  the  final  source  of  all  that  is  real  and  knowable 
entirely  beyond  all  being  and  knowledge.  The  original 
essence  (TO  irptarov}  is  without  limit,  form,  or  defini- 
tion, the  unlimited  or  infinite  (ajrsipov) ;  no  corporeal 
and  even  no  intellectual  property  can  be  ascribed  to  it 
— neither  thought,  nor  volition,  nor  activity.  All  thought 
contains  the  distinction  of  the  thinker  from  thinking 
and  from  what  is  thought,  all  volition  the  distinction 
of  being  and  activity,  which  implies  plurality;  all 
activity  is  directed  to  something  beyond ;  but  the  first 
element  must  be  a  self-included  unity.  Moreover,  in 
order  to  think,  or  will,  or  be  active,  there  is  need  of 
something  to  which  the  activity  is  directed ;  but  God 
has  need  of  nothing  beyond  himself.  He  does  not 
even  need  himself  and  cannot  be  divided  from  himself. 
Hence  we  cannot  ascribe  to  him  any  self-consciousness. 
Here,  therefore,  for  the  first  time,  the  denial  of  the  per- 
sonality of  God,  for  which  Carneades  had  prepared  the 
way  (p.  272),  comes  forward  as  a  decisive  principle.  No 
definite  property  can  be  ascribed  to  the  Deity ;  for  the 
Deity  is  that  which  is  above  all  being  and  all  thought. 
The  conceptions  of  unity  and  goodness  are  best  suited 
for  a  positive  description  of  it ;  yet  even  they  are 


530  NEO-PLATONISM.  [§96 

inadequate ;  for  the  first  merely  expresses  the  denial 
of  plurality,  and  the  second  implies  an  operation  on 
something  external.  The  divinity  is,  therefore,  only 
the  basis  to  which  we  must  reduce  all  being  and  all 
operation ;  but  of  its  nature  we  know  nothing,  except 
that  it  is  entirely  separate  from  all  that  is  finite  and 
known  to  us. 

In  so  far"  as  the  Deity  is  the  original  force,  it  must 
create  everything.  But  as  it  is  raised  above  everything 
in  its  nature  and  needs  nothing  external,  it  cannot 
communicate  itself  substantially  to  another,  nor  make 
the  creation  of  another  its  object.  Creation  cannot,  as 
with  the  Stoics,  be  regarded  as  the  communication  of 
the  divine  nature,  as  a  partial  transference  of  it  into 
the  derivative  creature ;  nor  can  it  be  conceived  as  an  act 
of  will.  But  Plotinus  cannot  succeed  in  uniting  these 
determinations  in  a  clear  and  consistent  conception. 
He  has  recourse,  therefore,  to  metaphors.  The  First 
principle,  he  says,  by  virtue  of  its  perfection  flows,  as  it 
were,  over,  &c. ;  sends  forth  a  beam  from  itself,  &c. 
The  rise  of  what  is  derivative  from  the  original  being 
is  said  to  be  a  necessity  of  nature.  Yet  it  is  in  no 
way  needful  for  that  being,  and  is  not  connected 
with  any  change  in  it.  Hence  the  derivative  is  con- 
nected with  that  from  which  it  has  arisen,  and  strives 
towards  it  ;  it  has  no  being  which  is  not  created  in  it 
by  its  source  ;  it  is  filled  and  supported  by,  and  exists 
only  by  virtue  of,  its  creation  from  it.  But  the  creative 
element  remains  undivided,  and  external  to  what  is 
created  ;  so  that  Plotinus'  system  has  less  right  to  be 
called  a  system  of  emanation  than  a  system  of  dynamic 
pantheism.  As  the  earlier  in  its  essence  remains 


§%]        PLOT1XUS.     CREATION  OF  THINGS.          831 

external  to  the  later,  the  latter  is,  of  necessity,  more 
imperfect  than  the  former:  it  is  a  mere  shadow  or 
reflection  of  it.  And  as  this  relation  is  repeated  with 
every  new  reproduction,  and  everything  participates  in 
what  is  higher  through  its  immediate  cause,  the 
totality  of  the  beings  which  arise  from  the  original 
essence  forms  a  series  of  decreasing  perfections,  and 
this  decrease  goes  on  till  at  length  being  passes  into 
not-being,  light  into  darkness. 

The  first  product  of  the  original  essence  is  vovs, 
or  thought,  which  is  at  the  same  time  the  highest 
being.  The  predecessors  of  Plotinus  had  already  placed 
the  truly  existent,  the  ideas,  in  the  divine  thought; 
while  Plato,  on  his  part,  had  ascribed  reason  and 
thought  to  the  Existent.  Plotinus  arrived  at  the 
*  First,'  in  passing  beyond  all  being  and  thought ;  but 
in  the  descent  from  the  first,  these  occupy  the  nearest 
place.  The  thought  of  the  vovs  is  not  discursive,  but 
without  time,  complete  at  every  moment,  and  intuitive. 
Its  object  is  formed  partly  by  the  First  (of  which, 
however,  even  this  most  complete  thought  can  form  no 
adequate  and  thoroughly  uniform  picture),  and  partly, 
as  in  the  Aristotelian  vovs,  by  itself,  as  being  what  is 
thought  and  existent.  On  the  other  hand,  it  does  not 
apply  itself  to  what  is  beneath  it.  So  far  a'*  vovs  is 
the  highest  being,  the  five  categories  of  the  intelligible 
apply  to  it.  These  categories,  which  Plotinus  borrowed 
from  the  *  Sophist'  of  Plato,  are:  being,  movement, 
fixity  (o-rao-ty),  identity,  and  difference.  But  the 
later  Neo-Platonists,  after  Porphyry,  drop  these  cate- 
gories of  the  intelligible,  and  content  themselves  witb 


332  3EO-PLATONISM.  l§  as 

the  ten  Aristotelian  categories,  against  which,  as  well 
as  the  four  categories  of  the  Stoics,  Plotinus  had  raised 
many  objections,  and  which  he  allowed  to  hold  good 
for  the  world  of  phenomena  only.  The  universal 
element,  which  is  defined  more  precisely  by  the  cate- 
gories, is  called  by  Plotinus  the  unlimited  or  the 
intelligible  material.  In  it  lies  the  basis  of  plurality, 
which  the  vovs  has  in  itself  in  contradistinction  to  the 
First,  and  by  virtue  of  which  it  separates  into  the 
supersensuous  numbers  or  ideas.  Of  these  ideas  one 
must  correspond  not  only  to  each  class,  but  to  each 
separate  being  as  the  pattern  of  its  individual  peculiarity. 
But  at  the  same  time,  these  ideas  are  conceived  after 
Philo,  in  a  form  of  exposition  yet  more  common  in 
Plotinus,  as  operative  powers  or  spirits  (voi,  vospal 
BvvdfjLeif).  And  as  they  are  not  external  to  each  other, 
but  in  each  other,  without,  however,  intermingling, 
they  are  united  again  in  the  unity  of  the  intelligible 
world  (rcdo-fios  votjros)  or  Platonic  avro^yov.  This  as 
the  realm  of  the  ideas  is  also  the  realm  of  the  beautiful, 
the  primal  beauty,  in  the  imitation  of  which  all  other 
beauty  consists. 

It  follows  from  the  perfection  of  the  vovs  that  it 
must  produce  something  from  itself.  This  product  is  the 
soul.  The  soul  also  belongs  to  the  divine  supersensuous 
world ;  it  contains  the  ideas,  and  is  itself  Dumber  and 
idea;  as  the  phenomenon  of  the  vovs,it  is  life  and  activity, 
and,  like  the  vovs,  it  leads  an  eternal  life  without  time. 
But  it  already  stands  on  the  border  of  that  world.  In 
itself  indivisible  and  incorporeal,  it  yet  inclines  to  the 
divisible  and  corporeal,  over  which  it  watches  according 


§96]  PLOTINUS.     THE  8OUL.  838 

to  its  nature  and  is  intermediary  in  the  operations  pro- 
ceeding from  vovs.  In  itself,  therefore,  it  is  not  so 
homogeneous  as  the  vovs.  The  first  soul,  or  the  world- 
soul,,  is  not  only  in  its  nature  outside  the  corporeal  world  : 
it  does  not  even  work  directly  upon  it.  If  Plotinus 
ascribes  self-consciousness  to  it,  yet  he  finds  perception, 
remembrance,  and  reflection  unworthy  of  it.  The  first 
soul  sends  forth  a  second  from  it,  like  a  beam.  This 
Plotinus  calls  nature.  It  is  the  soul  which  is  united 
with  the  body  of  the  world,  as  our  soul  is  united  with 
our  body.  But  each  of  these  souls  produces  and  com- 
prises a  number  of  separate  souls,  which  are  united 
in  it  as  in  their  origin,  and  extend  from  it  to  the  various 
parts  of  the  world.  In  these  part-souls  the  lower 
limits  of  the  supersensuous  world  are  reached ;  when 
the  divine  power  descends  lower,  the  result  is  matter, 
which  is  its  most  imperfect  manifestation. 

§  97.    Plotinus'  Doctrine  of  the  Phenomenal  World. 

In  his  view  of  the  world  of  phenomena  and  its 
bases,  Plotinus  adheres  in  the  first  instance  to  Plato, 
The  sensuous  world  in  contrast  to  the  supersensuous  is 
the  region  of  the  divisible  and  changeable — of  being 
which  is  subject  to  natural  necessity,  to  relations  of 
space  and  time,  and  is  without  true  reality.  The 
source  of  this  world  can  only  lie  in  matter ;  which  we 
must  presuppose  as  the  general  substratum  of  all  be- 
coming and  change.  As  Plato  and  Aristotle  had  already 
stated,  it  is  something  without  form  and  definition,  the 
shadow  and  mere  possibility  of  being,  the  not-being, 
.deprivation,  penia.  But  it  is  also — and  in  this  point 


334  PLOT1NUS.  [§  97 

Plotinus  goes  beyond  Plato— the  evil,  and  even  the 
original  evil ;  from  it  arises  all  that  is  evil  in  the  corporeal 
world,  and  from  the  body  arises  all  the  evil  in  the  soul. 
Yet  it  is  necessary.  Light  must,  in  the  end,  at  the 
furthest  distance  from  its  origin,  become  darkness ;  the 
spirit  must  become  matter ;  the  soul  must  create  the 
corporeal  as  its  locality.  But  as  the  soul  illuminates 
and  forms  that  which  is  beneath  it,  it  enters  into  rela- 
tion with  it.  By  transferring  the  supersensuous  into 
matter,  which  can  only  receive  it  successively,  it  creates 
time  as  the  general  form  of  its  own  life  and  the  life  of  the 
world.  This  activity  of  the  soul  (or  nature,  cf.  p.  333) 
is  nevertheless  not  a  will,  but  an  unconscious  creation, 
a  necessary  consequence  of  its  nature,  and  for  this 
reason  the  world  is  without  beginning  and  end,  as 
Plotinus  teaches  with  Aristotle.  At  the  same  time, 
following  the  Stoics,  he  assumes  a  periodical  recurrence 
of  the  same  conditions  of  the  world.  But  necessary 
as  the  activity  is,  it  is  always  a  sinking  of  the  soul  in 
matter,  and  it  is  therefore  regarded  as  a  fall  of  the  soul. 
So  far  as  the  world  is  material,  it  is  regarded  by 
Plotinus  as  a  shadowy  copy  of  the  truly  real  or  super- 
sensuous.  Yet  as  it  is  the  soul  which  creates  it  and 
expresses  upon  it  the  traits  of  its  origin,  everything  in 
it  is  arranged  by  numbers  and  ideas,  by  the  creative 
concepts  (the  \6yoi  airspfiartKoi^  cf.  p.  240),  which  are 
the  nature  of  things.  Hence  it  is  as  beautiful  and  per- 
fect as  a  material  world  can  be.  The  contempt  which 
the  Christian  Gnostics  showed  for  nature  is  repudiated 
by  Plotinus  with  the  true  Hellenic  feeling  for  nature  ; 
and  if  he  does  not  acknowledge,  for  the  world  at  any 


§97]  PLOT1NUS.     THE   WORLD.  336 

rate,  a  providence  of  the  gods,  resting  on  purpose  and 
will,  and  directed  to  details,  and  the  notion  of  provi- 
dence is  expressed  in  him  as  the  natural  operation  of  the 
higher  on  the  lower,  yet  the  belief  in  providence  as  such 
is  maintained  by  him  in  connection  with  the  Platonic 
and  Stoic  theodicy.  And  it  is  maintained  with  the 
greater  success  as  his  views  on  the  freedom  of  the  will 
and  future  retribution  put  him  in  a  position  to  justify 
on  other  grounds  precisely  those  evils  which  caused  the 
Stoics  so  much  trouble.  Plotinus  is  also  connected  with 
the  Stoics  in  his  doctrine  of  the '  sympathy  of  all  things ' 
(p.  242).  But  while  they  intended  this  to  mean  the 
natural  connection  of  cause  and  effect,  Plotinus  means 
by  it  an  operation  at  a  distance,  which  rests  on  the 
fact  that,  owing  to  the  universal  vitality  and  animation 
of  the  world,  everything  that  affects  a  part  of  it  is  felt 
by  the  whole,  and  consequently  by  all  the  other  parts. 
In  the  universe  the  heaven  is  that  into  which  the 
soul  first  pours  itself.  In  it  therefore  dwells  the 
purest  and  noblest  soul.  Next  to  the  heaven  are  the 
stars,  which  are  also  extolled  by  Plotinus  as  visible 
gods.  Exalted  above  change  and  temporal  life,  and 
consequently  incapable  of  remembrance,  or  of  capricious 
action,  or  of  a  presentation  of  what  is  below  them,  they 
determine  the  latter  with  that  natural  necessity  which 
has  its  source  in  the  connection  and  sympathy  of  the 
universe.  Astrology,  on  the  other  hand,  with  the  notion 
on  which  it  rests — that  the  stars  exert  a  capricious 
influence  on  the  course  of  the  world — is  distinctly  con- 
troverted by  Plotinus,  and  astrological  prediction  ia 
limited  to  the  knowledge  of  future  events  from  the 


836  NEO-PLATONISM.  [|« 

natural  prognostics.  The  space  between  the  stare  and 
the  earth  is  the  dwelling-place  of  the  demons.  Plo- 
tinus  shares  the  ideas  of  his  school  about  these  beings, 
though  he  interprets  them  in  a  psychological  manner 
in  his  teaching  of  Eros. 

Of  earthly  beings  man  only  has  an  independent 
interest  for  our  philosopher.  Yet  his  anthropology  is, 
in  essentials,  merely  a  repetition  of  the  Platonic.  He 
describes,  at  greater  detail  and  in  a  more  dogmatic 
tone  than  Plato,  the  life  which  the  soul  leads  in  the 
supersensuous  world,  in  which  it,  like  the  souls  of  the 
gods,  was  subject  neither  to  change  nor  time,  without 
remembrance,  self-consciousness,  and  reflection,  and 
had  a  direct  intuition  in  itself  of  the  vovs,  the  existent 
and  primal  essence.  He  regards  its  descent  into  a  body 
(and  even  in  heaven  it  clothes  itself  with  an  ethereal 
body)  as  a  necessity  of  nature,  and  yet  as  the  guilt  of 
the  soul,  inasmuch  as  it  is  attracted  by  an  irresistible 
internal  impulse  into  the  body  which  corresponds  to  its 
nature.  He  finds  the  peculiar  essence  of  man  in  his 
higher  nature,  to  which,  however,  by  its  combination 
with  the  body,  a  second  Ego  and  a  lower  soul  were 
added,  and  this  second  soul,  though  depending  on  the 
other,  reaches  down  into  the  body.  Like  Aristotle,  he 
regards  the  relation  of  the  soul  to  the  body  as  the 
same  with  the  relation  of  operative  force  to  its  instru- 
ment. He  attempts  to  conceive  the  passionate  con- 
ditions of  the  soul,  and  the  activities  of  it  which  are 
related  to  what  is  sensual,  as  processes  which  take  place 
partly  in  the  body  and  partly  in  it  and  the  lower  soul, 
and  are  merely  perceived  by  the  higher.  He  defend* 


§97]  PLOTINUS.     THE  SOUL.  837 

the  freedom  of  the  will  against  the  Stoic  and  all  other 
kinds  of  fatalism  in  the  most  vigorous  manner;  but 
his  defence  does  not  go  very  deep,  and  he  repeats  the 
assertion  that  evil  is  involuntary.  Freedom  is  com- 
bined with  providence  by  the  remark  that  virtue  is 
free,  but  her  acts  are  entangled  in  the  connection  of 
the  world.  Further,  Plotinus  repeats  the  Platonic 
proofs  for  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  which,  however, 
are  again  rendered  questionable  by  the  fact  that  the 
souls  cannot  remember  their  earthly  existence  in  the 
supersensuous  world.  He  includes  entrance  into  the 
bodies  of  plants  in  his  migration  of  souls ;  the  retri- 
bution, to  which  it  conducts,  is  formed  into  a  jus 
talionis  extending  to  the  most  minute  details. 

§  98.  Plotinue'  Doctrine  of  Exaltation  into  the 
Supersensuous  World. 

As  the  soul  in  her  nature  belongs  to  a  higher 
world,  her  highest  mission  can  only  be  to  live  ex- 
clusively in  that  world  and  liberate  herself  from  all 
inclination  to  the  sensual.  Happiness,  according  to 
Plotinus,  consists  in  the  perfect  life,  and  this  consists 
in  thought.  Of  external  circumstances  happiness  is, 
in  his  view,  so  independent,  that  no  Stoic  could  express 
himself  more  decisively.  The  first  condition  of  it  is 
liberation  from  the  body  and  from  all  that  is  connected 
with  it,  or  purification  (icdOapcris);  the  immediate 
result  of  which  is  that  the  soul,  unrestrained  by  any 
alien  element,  addresses  herself  to  her  special  task. 
Katharsis  includes  all  virtues.  That  this  liberation 
from  sensuality  should  be  brought  about  by  an  ascetic 


838  NEO-PLATONISM.  [§98 

life  is  not  universally  demanded  by  Plotinus  in  Bpite 
of  the  abstinences  which  he  laid  upon  himself  and 
recommended  to  others.  In  his  discussions  on  Eros 
he  agrees  with  Pluto  that  even  sensuous  beauty  may 
lead  us  to  the  supersensuous.  But  the  view  that  the 
combination  with  the  body  is  the  source  of  all  the 
evi!  in  the  soul,  and  that  every  activity  has  a  higher 
value  as  it  brings  us  into  less  contact  with  the  world 
of  senses,  governs  his  entire  ethics.  Practical  and 
political  action  is  indeed  indispensable,  and  the  vir- 
tuous man  will  not  withdraw  himself  from  it,  but  it 
entangles  us  too  deeply  in  the  external  world,  and 
makes  us  dependent  on  something  not  ourselves.  The 
ethical  and  political  virtues  are  only  an  imperfect 
compensation  for  the  theoretic.  Even  these  last  are 
of  very  unequal  value.  Sensuous  perception  gives  us 
but  dim  traces  of  truth.  Mediated  thought  (Stai/owr, 
\oyur pas)  and  its  artistic  practice,  or  dialectic,  stand 
far  higher.  They  have  to  do  with  the  truly  real,  with 
ideas  and  the  essence  of  things.  But  this  indirect 
knowledge  presupposes  a  direct,  the  self-intuition  of 
the  thinking  spirit,  which  is  at  the  same  time  an 
intuition  of  the  divine  vovs.  Even  this  does  not  satisfy 
our  philosopher.  It  leads  us  to  the  vovs,  but  not 
beyond  it,  and  it  allows  the  distinction  of  the  mind  and 
the  intuition  to  remain.  We  do  not  reach  the  highest 
point  till  we  are  completely  buried  in  ourselves  and 
elevated  even  above  thought,  in  a  state  of  unconscious- 
ness, ecstasy  (SKO-TCIO-IS),  and  singleness  (a-TrXaxris), 
suddenly  filled  with  the  divine  light.  Thus  we  become 
BO  immediately  one  with  the  primal  being  that  all  dis- 


*98]          PLOTINUS.     THE  SUPEXSEXSUAL.  889 

tinction  between  it  and  us  disappears.  From  his  own  ex- 
perience Plotinus  was  no  doubt  acquainted  with  this  con- 
dition, which  however,  can  only  be  transitory.  Among 
his  Greek  predecessors  none  had  required  this  transcen- 
dence of  thought,  just  as  none  had  placed  the  Deity 
above  thought.  In  this  Philo  alone  was  his  pattern. 

In  comparison  with  this  spiritual  exaltation  to  the 
Deity  positive  religion  has,  on  the  whole,  only  a  sub- 
ordinate importance  for  Plotinus.  It  is  true  that  he  is 
far  removed  from  taking  up  a  critical  attitude  in  op- 
position to  it.  Besides  the  Deity  in  the  absolute  sense, 
his  system  recognises  a  number  of  higher  beings  which 
can  be  regarded  partly  as  visible  and  partly  as  invisible 
gods.  He  pronounces  a  distinct  reproof  when  anyone 
(like  the  Christians)  refused  to  them  their  appropriate 
honours.  He  interprets  the  gods  of  mythology  and 
their  history,  so  as  to  apply  to  these  deities,  with  the 
usual  caprice,  though  he  does  not  occupy  himself 
so  eagerly  with  this  subject  as  many  of  the  Stoics 
had  done.  Further,  he  makes  use  of  his  doctrine 
of  the  sympathy  of  all  things  for  a  supposed  rational 
foundation  of  the  worship  of  images,  prophecy, 
prayer,  and  magic,  under  which  he  includes  every 
inclination  and  disinclination,  and  every  operation  of 
the  external  on  the  internal.  On  the  other  hand,  he 
does  not  find  it  possible  to  combine  a  perception  of 
that  which  happens  on  the  earth,  or  a  personal  in- 
fluence on  the  course  of  the  world,  with  the  nature  of 
the  gods.  But  though  he  laid  the  foundation  on  which 
his  successors  continued  to  build  in  their  defence  and 
systematisation  of  the  national  religion,  his  own  attitude 


840  NEO-PLATONISM.  [§  98 

to  it  is  comparatively  free.  For  his  own  requirements 
his  ideal  sense  is  satisfied  with  the  inward  worship  of 
the  philosopher.  'The  gods,'  he  said,  ap.  Porphyr. 
*V.  Plot.'  10,  when  Amelias  wished  to  take  him  into 
a  temple,  '  must  come  to  me ;  it  is  not  I  who  must  go 
to  them.' 

§  99.  The  School  of  Plotinus.    Porphyry. 

Among  the  pupils  of  Plotinus,  Gentilianus  Amelius, 
who  has  just  been  mentioned,  is  shown  in  the  little 
that  we  know  of  him  to  have  been  a  thinker  without 
clearness,  an  intellectual  kinsman  and  admirer  of  Nu- 
menius.  Far  clearer  is  the  learned  Porphyry  (properly 
Malchus)  of  Tyre.  He  was  born  232-3  A.D.,  and  first 
attended  Longinus,  then  Plotinus,  and  died  after  301, 
apparently  in  Rome.  Besides  some  Platonic  writings, 
he  commented  on  a  good  many  of  Aristotle's  works, 
and  devoted  his  attention  especially  to  the  Aristotelian 
logic  (his  introduction  to  the  categories,  and  the  lesser 
of  his  commentaries  on  this  tract  are  still  existing). 
This  study  of  Aristotle  and  the  influence  of  Longinus 
must  have  helped  him  in  the  effort  after  clearness  in 
ideas  and  expression.  He  makes  it  his  task  to  set  forth 
and  explain,  not  to  examine  or  systematically  develop, 
the  doctrine  of  Plotinus.  In  his  sketch  of  it  (afyoppal 
irpos  ra  VOTJTCL)  he  lays  the  greatest  weight  on  the 
sharp  distinction  of  the  intellectual  and  corporeal, 
without  in  the  rest  deviating  from  the  determinations 
of  Plotinus.  In  the  vobs  he  distinguishes  being, 
thought,  and  life ;  but  he  would  doubtless  have  hesi- 
tated to  speak  of  three  voi,  as  Amelius  had  done  in 


$  99]  PORPHYRY.  341 

regard  to  a  similar  distinction.  In  his  anthropology, 
to  which  he  devoted  several  writings,  there  is  a  marked 
effort,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  to  combine  the  unity  of  the 
soul  with  the  multiplicity  of  its  activities  and  powers. 
The  soul,  he  says,  has  the  forms  (\6yos)  of  all  things 
in  itself;  according  as  thought  is  directed  to  this  or 
that  object  it  assumes  a  corresponding  form.  Hence 
he  allows  the  assumption  of  different  parts  in  the  soul, 
only  in  an  improper  sense.  In  like  manner,  the  uni- 
versal soul  makes  up  the  essence  of  the  individual 
spuls,  without  dividing  itself  among  them.  Porphyry 
ascribes  reason  to  the  animals,  but  will  not  extend  the 
migration  of  souls  to  the  bodies  of  animals ;  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  human  souls  are  not  allowed  to  exalt 
themselves  to  a  superhuman  nature.  Yet  even  he 
allows  the  purified  soul  to  look  forward  to  an  entire 
liberation  from  the  irrational  powers,  but  in  this 
liberated  condition  the  remembrance  of  the  earthly  state 
is  extinguished  along  with  the  desires.  But  for  Por- 
phyry the  chief  object  of  philosophy  lies  in  its  practical 
influence,  in  the  *  salvation  of  the  soul.'  The  most 
important  feature  in  this  is  the  purification,  the  libera- 
tion of  the  soul  from  the  body,  on  which  greater  stress 
is  laid  in  his  ethics  than  in  Plotinus.  Purifying  virtue 
is,  indeed,  placed  above  the  practical,,  but  beneath  the 
theoretic  or  paradeigmatic  (which  belongs  to  the  vovs 
as  such).  For  this  purification  he  demands,  more  de- 
cidedly than  Plotinus,  certain  ascot ic  practices,  such 
as  abstinence  from  flesh,  on  which  he  composed  a 
treatise  (vre/H  airo-^s  e^v^wi').  celibacy,  absence 
from  shows  and  similar  amusements.  He  requires  the 


843  NEO-PLATON1SM.  [§  * 

rapport  of  positive  religion  in  a  greater  degree  than 
Plotinus  to  aid  us  in  the  struggle  against  sensuality. 
It  is  true  that  there  was  much  in  the  faith  and  worship 
of  his  time  which  he  could  not  accept.  He  acknow- 
ledges that  a  pious  life  and  holy  thoughts  are  the  best 
worship,  and  alone  worthy  of  the  supersensuous  gods. 
In  the  remarkable  letter  to  Anebo  he  raises  such 
considerable  doubts  about  the  prevailing  ideas  of  the 
gods,  about  demons,  prophecy,  sacrifices,  and  astrology, 
that  we  might  believe  that  he  felt  it  necessary  to 
repudiate  them  all.  Yet  this  is  not  his  meaning.  As 
he  says,  we  must  elevate  ourselves  by  the  natural  gra- 
dations—the demons,  the  visible  gods,  the  soul,  and  the 
vovs — to  the  First.  From  this  point  of  view  his  demono- 
logy,  which  is  filled  with  all  the  superstitions  of  his 
time  and  his  school,  provides  him  with  means  for 
undertaking  the  defence  of  the  religion  of  his  people — 
which  he  supports  in  his  fifteen  books  against  the 
Christians — even  against  his  own  doubts.  On  the  one 
hand,  he  believes  that  their  religion  has  been  falsified 
by  wicked  demons,  so  that  a  purification  of  it  from 
anything  that  is  objectionable  is  only  a  restoration  of 
it  to  its  original  nature.  On  the  other  hand,  he  can 
justify  the  myths  as  allegorical  explanations  of  philo- 
sophical truth,  the  images  of  gods  and  sacred  animals 
as  symbols,  and  prophecy  as  an  interpretation  of  natural 
prognostics,  in  which,  no  doubt,  demons  and  the  souls 
of  animals  are  intermediary  agents.  Magic  and  the- 
urgy are  justified  as  a  means  of  operating  on  the  lower 
powers  of  the  soul  and  nature,  and  the  demons.  Evem 
those  things  which  he  disapproves  of  in  themselves,  like 


§  9»]  IAMBLICHU&  848 

blood -offerings,  he  allows  in  public  worship  as  a  means 
to  bay  impure  spirits.  But  the  private  religion  of  the 
philosopher  must  remain  free  from  them. 

§  100.  lamblichus  and  his  School. 
What  in  Porphyry  was  chiefly  a  concession  to  the 
traditional  form  of  faith,  becomes  in  his  pupil  lam- 
blichus (of  Chalcis ;  died  about  330  A.D.),  the  central 
point  of  his  scientific  activity.  For  this  very  reason  he 
was  deified  by  his  pupils  and  the  later  Neo-Platonists 
(dslos  is  his  usual  epithet).  lamblichus  did  not  only 
belong  to  Syria  by  origin,  but  he  appears  to  have 
passed  his  life  there,  and  in  his  philosophy  the  in- 
fluences of  the  East  are  deeply  felt.  He  was  a  learned 
scholar,  an  exponent  of  Platonic  and  Aristotelian  works, 
and  a  copious  writer — besides  many  fragments  we  have 
five  books  of  his  a-vvaywyr)  T&V  TlvOayopstmv  Bojfid- 
rwv.  But  he  is  far  more  of  a  speculative  theologian 
than  a  philosopher;  and  uncritical  as  he  is,  he  prefers 
to  draw  his  philosophy  from  the  most  muddy  and  recent 
sources.  Against  the  defects  of  earthly  existence,  the 
oppression  of  natural  necessity,  he  can  only  find  aid 
among  the  gods  ;  to  his  fantastic  thought  every 
moment  in  a  conception  is  transferred  into  an  inde- 
pendent substance.  His  need  of  belief  can  never  be 
satisfied  with  a  multiplication  of  the  divine.  On  the 
principle  that  there  must  be  a  mediate  element  be- 
tween every  unity  and  that  to  which  it  communicates 
itself,  he  distinguished  a  second  unity  from  the  one 
inexpressible  original  essence,  which  stood  midway 
between  it  and  plurality.  He  divided  the  vovt  of 


844  NEO-PLATOKISM.  [?  1™. 

Plotinus'  into  an  intelligible  (VOTJTOS^  and  an  intellec- 
tual world ;  and  the  first,  in  spite  of  its  unity,  which 
was  to  exclude  all  multiplicity,  into  a  triad.  This 
triad  extended  into  three  triads.  In  like  manner,  the 
intellectual  was  divided  into  three  triads,  of  which  the 
last  apparently  became  a  hebdomad.  The  original 
forms  belong  to  the  intelligible  ;  the  ideas  to  the 
intellectual.  From  the  first  soul  lamblichus  derived 
two  others,  from  which,  however,  he  divided  the  vovs 
which  belonged  to  them,  and  this  also  was  done  in  a 
double  form.  Next  to  these  superterrestrial  gods  stand 
the  terrestrial  in  three  classes ;  twelve  heavenly  gods, 
which  are  again  multiplied  to  thirty-six,  and  these  to 
360;  seventy-two  orders  of  subcelestial,  and  forty-two 
of  natural  gods  (the  numbers  appear  to  be  taken  to 
some  extent  from  astrological  systems).  These  are 
followed  by  angels,  demons,  and  heroes.  The  national 
deities  can  be  interpreted  into  these  metaphysical 
beings  with  the  usual  syncretistic  caprice.  In  a 
similar  manner,  the  worship  of  images,  theurgy,  and 
prophecy  are  defended  on  grounds  in  which,  in  the 
most  contradictory  manner,  the  most  irrational  super- 
stition is  combined  with  the  desire  to  represent  the 
miraculous  as  something  rational.  This  theological 
speculation  is  united  in  lamblichus  with  speculation 
in  numbers,  to  which,  after  the  pattern  of  the  Neo- 
Pythagoreans,  he  ascribes  a  higher  value  than  to 
scientific  mathematics,  much  as  he  prizes  the  latter. 
In  his  cosmology,  besides  the  eternity  of  the  world, 
which  he  shares  with  his  whole  school,  the  most  notice- 
able point  is  his  account  of  nature  or  destiny 


£ 100]  IAMBLICHUS.  846 

/u-eVT?),  so  far  as  he  describes  this  as  a  power  oppressing 
mankind,  from  the  bonds  of  which  he  can  only  be 
liberated  by  the  interference  of  the  gods.  In  his 
psychology  the  effort  is  more  strongly  marked  even 
than  in  Porphyry  to  keep  for  the  soul  her  middle  posi- 
tion between  infrahuman  and  superhuman  beings.  With 
Porphyry  also  he  contests  the  transition  of  human  souls 
into  the  bodies  of  animals,  and  the  more  so  because  he 
did  not,  like  Porphyry  ascribe  reason  to  the  animals. 
To  Porphyry's  four  classes  of  virtues  (p.  341)  he  added, 
as  a  fifth  and  highest  class,  the  *  single '  (eviatat)  or 
*  priestly '  virtues,  which  elevate  a  man  to  the  primal 
essence  as  such.  Yet  with  him  also  the  most  necessary 
part  is  the  purification  of  the  soul,  by  which  alone  it 
withdraws  from  connection  with  the  sensuous  world 
and  dependence  on  nature  and  destiny. 

The  mode  of  thought  of  which  lamblichus  is  the 
most  distinct  representative  dominates  the  Neo- 
Platonic  school  from  his  time.  In  the  treatise  *  On  the 
Mysteries,'  which  is  ascribed  to  him,  and  which  is 
apparently  the  work  of  one  of  his  immediate  pupils, 
sacrifices,  prophecy,  theurgy,  &c.,  are  defended,  against 
Porphyry  (p.  342),  quite  in  his  spirit,  with  the  aid  of 
the  proposition  that  we  can  only  attain  to  the  higher 
by  the  aid  of  the  lower,  and.  that  man,  at  any  rate, 
owing  to  his  sensual  nature,  cannot  dispense  with  these 
material  intermediaries.  The  defence  is  carried  out 
with  success  and  skill.  But  at  the  same  time  stress  is 
laid  on  the  fact  that  only  divine  revelation  can  instruct 
us  in  the  means  by  which  we  can  enter  into  union  with 
the  Deity.  The  priests,  therefore,  who  are  the  deposi- 


&6  NEO-PLATONISM.  [§ M 

• 

taries  of  this  revelation,  stand  far  higher  than  the 
philosophers.  Among  the  pupils  of  lamhlichus  who  are 
known  to  us,  Theodorus  of  Asine,  who  also  attended 
Porphyry,  appears  to  have  been  the  most  important.  In 
the  accounts  of  him,  which  we  owe  almost  exclusively  to 
Proclus — he  seems  to  have  preceded  the  latter  in  the 
attempt  to  carry  out  a  triple  arrangement  through  the 
parts  of  the  supersensuous  world.  The  primal  being, 
from  which  he  does  not,  like  lamblichus,  distinguish  a 
second  unity,  is  followed  by  three  triads,  into  which  he 
divided  the  vovs :  an  intelligible,  an  intellectual  (being, 
thought,  life,  p.  340),  and  a  demiurgic,  which  in  turn 
included  three  triads.  Then  come  three  souls,  of 
which  the  lowest  is  the  world-soul,  or  destiny,  and  its 
body  is  nature.  What. is  known  to  us  of  his  more 
precise  determinations  on  these  beings  is  very  formal, 
and  degenerates  into  mere  childishness.  Of  two  other 
pupils  of  lamblichus,  ^Edesius  and  Sopater,  we  only 
know  that  the  first  followed  him  in  the  management 
of  the  school,  and  the  second  obtained  influence  at 
court  under  Constantine  I.,  but  was  afterwards  ex- 
ecuted. Dexippus  is  known  to  us  by  his  explanation 
uf  the  categories,  in  which  he  depends  entirely  upon 
Porphyry  and  lamblichus.  Among  the  pupils  of 
^Edesius,  Eusebius  took  a  scientific  direction,  but  the 
greatest  influence  was  exercised  by  Maximus,  whose 
death  was  finally  caused  by  his  arrogance  and  his 
theurgic  arts  (about  370  A.D.).  He  and  his  associate 
Chrysanthius,  who  was  personally  more  attractive  and 
estimable,  gained  over  the  Emperor  Julian  for  philo- 
sophy and  the  older  deities.  Other  members  of  this 


f  100]  PUPILS  OP  IAMBLICHU8.  847 

circle  are  Prisons,  Sallustius,  Eunapius  (p.  13),  and 
the  famous  orator  Libanius.  When  Julian,  after  his 
accession  (361  A.D.),  undertook  to  restore  the  Hellenic 
religion,  he  was  led  to  this  step  by  the  Neo-Platonist 
philosophy.  But  the  attempt  must  have  failed  even  if 
the  early  death  of  its  author  (363)  had  not  brought  it 
to  a  sudden  end.  Julian's  writings,  so  far  as  they  are 
of  a  philosophical  nature,  do  not  exhibit,  any  more  than 
his  friend  Sallustius'  book  on  the  gods,  an  independent 
advance  in  the  propositions  borrowed  from  lamblichus. 
The  intellectual  Hypatia,  who  was  at  the  head  of  the 
Platonic  school  at  Alexandria,  and  brought  it  to  a  high 
state  of  prosperity,  finally  fell  a  victim  (415)  to  the 
fanaticism  of  the  Christian  rabble.  If  we  may  draw 
this  conclusion  from  the  treatises  of  her  pupil  Syn- 
esius,  Bishop  of  Ptolemais  (365-415),  she  appears  to 
have  taught  the  Neo-Platonic  doctrine  in  the  form  in 
which  lamblichus  had  stated  it. 

§  101.  The  School  of  Athena. 

The  final  application  of  the  Neo-Platonic  science 
was  caused  by  the  study  of  Aristotle.  This  had  never 
become  extinct  in  the  school  during  the  fourth  century, 
though  after  the  time  of  lamblichus  it  undeniably 
lost  ground  in  influence  and  importance  before  theo- 
sophical  speculations  and  theurgy.  Now,  however,  it 
was  resumed  with  greater  and  more  lasting  eagerness, 
since  the  school,  after  the  failure  of  Julian's  attempt 
at  restoration,  found  itself  in  the  position  of  a  sup- 
pressed and  persecuted  sect,  with  hopes  almost  entirely 
restricted  to  its  scientific  activity.  In  Constantinople, 


848  NKO-PLATONISTS.  [§101 

during  the  second  half  of  the  fourth  century,  Themis- 
tius  devoted  himself  to  the  explanation  of  the  Aristote- 
lian and  Platonic  writings.  If  he  cannot  be  counted 
among  the  Neo-Platonists  owing  to  his  somewhat 
superficial  eclecticism,  yet  he  coincides  with  them  in 
his  conviction  of  the  entire  agreement  of  Aristotle  and 
Plato.  But  the  chief  seat  of  Aristotelian  studies  was 
the  Platonic  school  at  Athens.  This  school  also  carried 
out  that  combination  of  Aristotelism  with  the  theosophy 
of  lamblichus,  which  imprinted  a  peculiar  stamp  on 
the  Neo-Platonism  of  the  fifth  and  sixth  centuries, 
and  the  Christian  and  the  Mohammedan  philosophy 
which  sprang  from  it.  About  the  beginning  of  the 
fifth  century  we  meet  with  the  Athenian  Plutarchus, 
the  son  of  Nestorius,  who  died  in  431-2  at  a  great  age, 
as  the  leader  of  the  school  and  an  eminent  teacher. 
Plutarchus  explained  the  writings  of  Plato  and  Ari- 
stotle with  equal  zeal  both  in  writings  and  in  lectures. 
The  little  that  we  know  of  his  philosophical  views  does 
not  go  beyond  the  tradition  of  his  school.  It  deals 
chiefly  with  psychology,  which  he  treats  carefully  on 
the  foundation  of  Aristotle  and  Plato.  At  the  same 
time,  we  are  told  that  he  had  acquired  from  his  father 
and  propagated  all  kinds  of  magical  and  theurgic  arts. 
Of  his  pupils,  Hierocles  is  known  to  us  by  some  writings 
and  excerpts.  He  taught  philosophy  in  his  native 
city  of  Alexandria  at  the  same  time  as  Olympiodorus, 
the  Aristotelian.  In  his  writings  we  see  a  philosopher 
who  in  general  stands  on  the  footing  of  Neo-Platonism, 
but  ascribes  a  far  greater  value  to  such  doctrines  as  are 
practically  fruitful  than  to  metaphysical  speculation. 


§101]  PLUTARCH.    SYRIANUS.  849 

His  pupil  Theosebius  followed  in  a  similar  direction. 
The  more  eagerly  was  this  speculation  carried  on  by 
Syriarms,  the  collaborator  and  successor  of  Plutarch, 
who  was  a  fellow-citizen  and  pupil  of  Hierocles.  This 
Platonist,  who  is  so  highly  praised  by  Proclus  and 
later  writers,  was  at  the  same  time  an  accurate  scholar 
and  eager  exponent  of  Aristotle.  But  his  guiding 
authorities,  besides  Plato,  whom  he  places  far  below 
Aristotle,  are  the  Neo-Pythagorean  and  Orphic  writings, 
and  the  supposed  Chaldsean  divine  utterances.  The 
favourite  object  of  his  speculation  is  theology.  But  in 
scientific  completeness  his  treatment  of  the  subject l  is 
far  behind  that  of  Proclus.  From  the  One,  which  is 
without  opposites,  he  primarily  derives  with  the  Neo- 
Pythagoreans  the  unit  and  the  indefinite  duality  as 
the  most  universal  causes  of  things.  In  the  vovs  he 
distinguished  with  lamblichus  the  intelligible  and  the 
intellectual,  at  the  head  of  which  stands  the  demiurge. 
The  ideas  were  thought  to  have  originally  existed  as  the 
primary  forms  or  unified  numbers  in  the  intelligible, 
and  afterwards  in  a  derivative  manner  in  the  intelligence 
of  the  demiurge.  With  regard  to  the  soul,  he  remarked 
(according  to  Proclus,  *  In  Tim.'  207  B.)  that  it  partly 
remained  in  itself,  and  partly  came  forth  from  itself,  and 
partly  returned  to  itself,  without,  however,  applying  this 
distinction,  if  it  really  belongs  to  him,  to  the  totality  of 
actual  things.  Of  other  views,  we  may  mention  that 
he  maintained  in  regard  to  *  immaterial '  bodies  tha* 

1  So  far  as  we  know  it  from  on  the  metaphysics,  Schol.  in 
the  single  specimen  which  is  Arist.  837  ff.,  and  from  Proclus, 
left,  a  part  of  bis  commentary 


850  NEO-PLATONISM.  l§  10 1 

they  could  occupy  the  same  space  with  others,  and 
that  the  souls  continued  after  death  in  their  ethereal 
bodies,  for  ever  united  with  the  higher  of  the  irrational 
powers  of  life,  and  with  the  lower  for  a  time.  For 
the  rest,  he  does  not  appear  to  have  differed  from 
the  traditions  of  his  school. 

Of  the  pupils  of  Plutarchus  and  Syrianus,  Proclus, 
the  Lycian,  was  the  successor  of  the  last.  He  was  born 
in  ConstantiDople  in  410  A.D.,  came  to  Athens  in  his 
twentieth  year,  and  there  died  in  485  A.D.  Besides 
him  his  fellow-pupil  Hermias,  who  taught  at  Alex- 
andria, is  of  little  importance.  By  his  iron  industry, 
his  learning,  his  mastery  in  logic,  his  systematic  spirit, 
and  his  fruitful  work  as  a  teacher  and  a  writer,1  Proclus 
is  as  distinguished  among  the  Platonists  as  Chrysippus 
among  the  Stoics.  But  he  was  at  the  same  time  an 
ascetic  and  a  believer  in  theurgy,  who  thought  that 
he  received  revelations,  and  could  never  have  enough 
of  religious  exercises.  He  shared  in  the  religious 
enthusiasm  of  his  school,  in  their  faith  and  their 
superstition,  in  their  regard  for  Orphic  poems,  Chal- 
daean  oracles,  and  the  like.  He  now  undertook  to 
work  up  into  a  single  methodical  system  the  whole 
mass  of  theological  and  philosophical  tenets  handed 
down  by  his  predecessors.  This  system,  in  its  formal 
completeness,  in  the  inward  want  of  freedom  of  thought 
from  which  it  arose,  and  in  the  absence  of  any  really 
scientific  foundation  and  treatment,  may  be  compared 

1  On  the  writings  of  Proclns,    b.  778  f.    Freudenthal 
of  which  only  a  part  has  been    xvi  214  f 
preserved,  cf.    Phil.  d.  Or.  iii. 


PROCLU&  851 

as  a  Hellenic  pattern  with  the  systems  of  the  Christian 
and  Mohammedan  scholastics.  The  prevailing  law, 
upon  which  this  system  is  constructed,  is  that  of 
triadic  development.  The  thing  produced  is,  on  the 
one  hand,  similar  to  that  which  produces  it,  for  one 
can  only  produce  the  other  by  communicating  itself  to 
it.  On  the  other  hand,  it  differs  from  it  as  what 
is  divided  from  unity,  as  the  derivative  from  the 
original.  In  the  first  respect,  it  remains  in  its  cause, 
and  the  cause,  though  only  incompletely,  in  it ;  in  the 
second,  it  proceeds  out  of  the  cause.  But  inasmuch  as 
it  clings  to  it,  and  is  related  to  it,  it  turns  to  it  in 
spite  of  the  separation,  seeks  to  imitate  it  on  a  lower 
stage,  and  unite  with  it.  The  existence  of  what  is 
produced  in  that  which  produces  it,  its  emergence  from 
it,  and  its  return  to  it  (/toin?,  TrpooSoy,  sTriaTpo^}  are 
the  three  moments,  by  the  continued  repetition  of  which 
the  totality  of  things  is  developed  from  their  origin. 
The  final  source  of  this  development  can  naturally  be 
nothing  but  the  original  essence,  which  Proclus  de- 
scribes after  Plotinus  as  absolutely  elevated  above  all 
being  and  knowledge,  as  higher  than  the  unit,  as  a 
cause  without  being  the  cause,  as  neither  being  nor 
not-being,  &c.  But  between  this  first  and  the  intel- 
ligible he  inserts  with  lamblichus  (p.  344)  an  inter- 
mediary member :  the  absolute  unities  (avroreXets 
evdbss)  which  form  the  single,  supernal  number,  but 
which  are  at  the  same  time  denoted  as  the  highest 
gods,  and  in  that  capacity  receive  predicates  which  are 
far  too  personal  for  their  abstract  nature.  After  them 
comes  the  province  which  Plotinus  allotted  to  the  vov». 


852  NEO-PLATONISM.  (.§ 101 

Proclus,  partly  following  lamblichus  and  Theodorus  (p. 
344),  divides  this  into  three  spheres:  the  intelligible, 
the  intellectual-intelligible  (vorjrbv  &(ia  KOI  vospov), 
and  the  intellectual.  The  chief  property  of  the  first  is 
being ;  of  the  second,  life ;  of  the  third,  thought.  Of 
these  spheres  the  two  first  are  again  divided  into  three 
triads  each,  somewhat  on  the  same  principles  of  divi- 
sion. The  triad  is  divided  into  seven  hebdomads,  and 
the  separate  members  of  each  series  are  regarded 
at  the  same  time  as  gods  and  identified  with  one 
of  the  deities  of  the  national  religion.  The  soul, 
of  which  the  conception  is  defined  as  in  Plotinus, 
comprises  three  classes  of  part-souls :  divine,  de- 
monic, and  human.  The  divine  are  divided  into  three 
orders :  the  four  triads  of  hegemonic  gods,  an  equal 
number  of  gods  free  from  the  world  (a7r6\vroi)  and 
the  gods  within  the  world,  which  are  divided  into  star- 
gods  and  elementary  gods.  In  interpreting  the  national 
gods  in  reference  to  this  system,  Proclus  finds  it 
necessary  to  assume  a  triple  Zeus,  a  double  Kore,  and  a 
triple  Athene.  The  demons  are  connected  with  the 
gods.  They  are  divided  more  precisely  into  angels, 
demons,  and  heroes,  and  described  in  the  ordinary 
way  with  a  large  admixture  of  superstition.  Next 
to  them  come  the  souls  which  enter  temporarily 
into  material  bodies.  Plotinus  had  allowed  matter  to 
be  created  by  the  soul ;  Proclus  derives  it  immediately 
from  the  unlimited,  which  with  him,  in  combination 
with  the  limited  and  the  mixed,  forms  the  first  of  the 
intelligible  triads.  As  to  its  nature,  it  is  not  with  him 
the  evil,  but  neither  good  nor  evil.  His  cosmologies! 


§101]  PROCLUS,  863 

ideas  agree  in  all  that  is  essential  with  those  of  Plo- 
tinus,  except  that  he  regards  space  as  a  body  consisting 
of  the  finest  light,  which  body  penetrates  that  of  the 
world  (cf.  Syrian,  p.  349).  Like  Plotinus,  he  undertakes 
the  defence  of  Providence,  on  account  of  the  evil  in  the 
world.  He  joins  him  and  Syrianus  in  his  assumptions 
about  the  descent  and  the  future  fortunes  of  the  soul. 
In  his  psychology  he  combines  Platonic  and  Aristotelian 
determinations,  but  increases  the  number  of  the  soul's 
capacities  by  dividing  the  principle  of  unity  or  divinity 
in  men  from  thought  or  reason.  This  element  is  higher 
than  the  others,  and  by  it  only  can  the  divine  be  known. 
His  ethics  require  an  elevation  to  the  supersensuous, 
ascending  by  degrees  through  the  five  classes  of  virtues 
(which  «re  found  in  lamblichus,  p.  345).  With  him  also 
the  final  object  of  this  elevation  is  the  mystic  union 
with  the  Deity.  But  the  more  firmly  he  is  convinced 
that  all  higher  knowledge  rests  on  divine  illumination, 
and  that  it  is  faith  alone  which  unites  us  with  the 
Deity,  the  less  is  he  inclined  to  abandon  all  those 
religious  helps  to  which  the  Neo- Platonic  school  since 
lamblichus  had  ascribed  so  high  a  value,  and  the 
efficiency  of  which  Proclus  also  defends  on  traditional 
grounds.  His  explanations  of  myths  are  naturally 
conceived  in  the  same  spirit. 

In  the  hands  of  Proclus  the  Neo-Platonic  doctrine 
received  the  final  form  in  which  it  was  handed  down  to 
posterity.  The  school  had  some  eminent  represen- 
tatives after  his  time,  but  none  who  can  be  compared 
with  him  in  scientific  power  and  influence.  His  pupil 
Ammonius,  the  son  of  Hermias  (p.  350),  who  taught  in 


854  2fEO-PLATONlSM.  [|  101 

Alexandria  for  a  considerable  time,  as  it  seems,  and 
enjoyed  a  great  reputation,  was  an  excellent  exponent 
of  the  Platonic,  and  even  more  so  of  the  Aristotelian, 
writings,  and  a  great  proficient  in  the  mathematical 
sciences.  But  we  do  not  find  in  him  any  independent 
views  of  importance.  Asclepiodotus,  whom  Simplicius 
('Phys.'  795,  13)  calls  the  best  pupil  of  Proclus, 
an  eminent  mathematician  and  physicist,  appears  to 
have  been  distinguished  from  the  majority  of  his  party 
by  a  jejune  mode  of  thought,  inclined  to  theological 
extravagances  and  theurgic  practices.  Marinus,  the 
biographer  of  Proclus  and  his  successor  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  school,  was  of  little  importance ;  his  suc- 
cessor, the  Isidorus  whom  Damascius  admired  (*  Vita 
Isid.'  ap.  Phot.  'Cod.'  181.  242),  was  a  confused  theo- 
Bophist  in  the  style  of  lamblichus.  Of  Hegias,  another 
pupil  of  Proclus  who  followed  Isidorus,  we  know  no 
more  than  of  other  pupils  whose  names  are  handed  down 
to  us.  Damascius,  the  pupil  of  Marinus,  Ammonius, 
and  Isidorus,  who  was  head  of  the  school  at  Athens  about 
520-530  A.D.,  an  admirer  and  intellectual  kinsman  of 
lamblichus,  endeavours  in  vain  in  his  work  on  the 
ultimate  sources  (frspl  dp^eoz/1)  to  find  the  means  of 
transition  from  the  primal  essence — of  the  inconceiv- 
ability of  which  he  cannot  speak  strongly  enough — to 
the  intelligible  by  the  insertion  of  a  second  and  third 
unity.  In  the  end  he  finds  himself  forced  to  the 
confession  that  we  cannot  properly  speak  of  an  origin 
of  the  lower  from  the  higher,  but  only  of  one  uniform, 

1  First,  partially,  edited    in    writings,  see  PML  d.  Or.  lii.  b 
1826,  by  Kopp.     On  his  other    ?38.  7. 


§101]  SUCCESSORS  OF  PROCLUS.  365 

undistinguished  being.  Simplicius  belongs  to  the  last 
heathen  generation  of  Neo-Platonists.  He  was  a  pupil 
of  Ammonius  and  Damascius,  and  his  commentaries  on 
several  of  Aristotle's  works  are  invaluable  to  us.  They 
are  evidence,  not  only  of  the  learning,  but  of  the  clear- 
ness of  thought  of  their  author,  but  they  never  go 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  Neo-Platonic  tradition.  To 
the  same  generation  belong  Asclepius  and  the  younger 
Olympiodorus,  two  pupils  of  Ammonius,  of  whom  we 
have  commentaries,  and  others  also.  But  in  the 
Christianised  Roman  Empire,  philosophy  could  not  long 
maintain  itself  independently  of  the  victorious  Church. 
In  the  year  529  A.D.  Justinian  forbade  philosophy  to  be 
taught  in  Athens.  The  property  of  the  Platonic  school 
was  confiscated.  Damascius,  with  six  associates,  among 
whom  was  Simplicius,  emigrated  to  Persia,  from  whence 
he  soon  returned  undeceived.  Shortly  after  the  middle 
of  the  sixth  century  the  last  of  the  Platonists  who  did 
not  enter  the  Christian  Church  seem  to  have  died  out. 
Olympiodorus  composed  his  commentary  on  the  '  Me- 
teorology '  after  564  A.D. 

In  the  western  half  of  the  Roman  Empire,  Neo- 
Platonism  appears  to  have  been  propagated  only  in  the 
simpler  and  purer  form  which  it  received  from  Plotinus 
and  Porphyry.  Traces  of  its  existence  are  perhaps  to 
be  found  in  the  logical  works  and  translations  of 
Marius  Victorinus  (about  350),  of  Vegetius  (Vectius, 
Vettius)  Praetextatus  (died,  apparently,  387),  Albinus, 
BO  far  as  we  know  anything  of  him,  and  in  the  ency- 
clopaedic work  of  Marcianus  Capella  (350-400).  More 
distinctly  do  they  appear  in  Augustine  (353-430),  and 


866  NEO-PLATUNISM.  [§  101 

the  two  Platonists  Macrobius  (about  400)  and  Chal- 
cidius  (in  the  fifth  century).  The  last  representative 
of  ancient  philosophy  here  is  the  noble  Anicius 
Manlius  Severinus  Boethius,  who  was  born  about 
480,  and  executed  at  the  command  of  Theodoric  in 
525.  Although  he  belonged  outwardly  to  the  Christian 
Church,  his  real  religion  was  philosophy.  In  this  he  ia 
a  follower  of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  who,  in  his  view, 
completely  agree.  His  Platonism  has  a  Neo-Platonic 
hue.  But  in  his  philosophic  «  Consolation  '  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Stoic  morality  cannot  fail  to  be  recognised. 


INDEX. 


AOK 

A  OHAECUS,  295 
IX     Adrastus,  295 
jEdesius,  346 
Elius  Stilo,  277 
.Emilias  Paulas,  275 
.Enesidemus,  301  fE. 
.Eschines  the  Socratic,  114 
.Eschines  the  Academician,  280 
Aetius,  8 
Agrippa,  302 
Academy,  the  old,  165  fif. 

—  the  new,  269  ff. 

—  after    Clitomachns,    283    ff., 
297  ff. 

Acusilaus,  25 

Albinos  the  older,  297  fL,  814 

—  the  younger,  356 
Alcidamas,  92 
Alcinous,  298  note 
Alcmaeon,  57 
Alexander  the  Great,  171 

—  of  ^gae,  295 

—  of  Aphrodisias,  296  ff.,  14 
-  Polyhistor,  11,  306,  309 
Alexinus,  115 
Amafinius,  256 

Amelius,  340 

Ammonias,  Plutarch's    teacher, 
297 

—  Saccas,  327 

—  son  of  Hermias,  353 
Anacharsis,  27 
Anaxagoras,  83-88,  36, 101 
Anaxarchus,  83 


AKI 

Anaximander,  39-41 
Anaximenes,  41  ff. 
Anchipylus,  117 
Andronicus,  14,  172,  178,  MS 
Anebo,  342 
Anniceris  the  elder,  127 

—  the  younper,  122,  126 
Antigonus  of  Carystns,  10 
Antiochns  Epiphanes,  317 

—  of  Ascalon,  280 

—  the  Sceptic,  302 
Antipater  the  Cyrenaic,  129 

—  the  Stoic,  231,  251 
Antisthenes  the   Socratic,  117- 

121 

—  the  Rhodian,  10,  226 
Antoninus,  M.  Amelias,  292  ff. 

255,  287 
Anytus,  112 
Apellicon,  179 
Apollodoras  the  cbronologer,  11 

—  the  Stoic,  278 

—  the  Epicurean,  11,  256 
Apollonius  the  Stoic,  11 

—  of  Tyana,  12,  307,  310 
Apuleius,  297,  314 
Aratus,  230 
Arcesilaus,  169,  269 
Archedemus,  231,  240 
Archelaus,  88,  101 
Archytas,  49,  128,  307 
Arete,  122 
Aristarchus,  255 
Aristippos  the  elder,  122  fl. 


INDEX. 


Aristippns  the  younger,  122 

—  the  Academician,  11 
Aristo,  Plato's  father,  126 

—  of  Ceos,  226  f . 

-  of  Cl.ios,  2HO,  233,  247,  249 

—  later  Peripatetic,  283 
Arist<  bu  us.  319 
Aristocles,  12,  296 
Aristophanes  of  Byzantium,  13, 

132 
Aristotle,  8,  21,  30  ff.,  86,  103, 

12'.).  163,  170  ff.  260,  307 
Aristoxenus,  10,  224 
Aristus,  282 

Arius  Didymus,  9,  279,  282,  307 
Arrianus,  291 
Artemon,  178 
Asclepiades,  276 
Asclepiodotns,  354 
Asclepius,  355 
Aspasius,  295 
Ast,  \Mnote,  132 
Athenodori,  the  two,  279 
Atomists,  76  ft 
Attalus,  287 
Auicus,  298 
Augustin,  8,  9 


BASILIDES,  256 
Bernays,  61  note  2,  66  note, 
177  note  1,  220 
Bias,  27 

Boeckh,  15,  45  note  2 
Boethius,  356 
Boeihus  the  Stoic,  277 
—  the  Peripatetic,  286 
Bonitz,  174  note 
Brandis,  16 
Brucker,  14 
By  water,  66  note 


riALLICLES,  92,  96 
\J    Callimachus,  10 
Callippus,  199 
Callisthenes,  171,  226 
Carneades,  271-275 


Cato,  279 
Cebes,  114 
Celsus,  Corn.,  286 

—  the  Platonist,  298,  314 
Chseremon,  387 
Chaignet,  46  note,  126  noU 
Chalcidius,  356 

1  Chameleon,  225 
:   Charmidas,  280 

Charondas,  306 
j   Chilon,  27 

Chrysanthius,  346 
I   Chrysippus,  230,  235  ff. 

Cicero.  8,  284  f. 

Cleanthes,  11,  13,  230,  245  ff. 

Clearchus,  10,  225 

Cleinias,  49 

Clemens  Alex.  8,  9 

Cleobulus,  27 

Cleomedes,  287 

Cleomenes,  230 

Clitomachus,  8,  11,  271,  273 

Clytus,  225 

Colotes,  256 

Cornutus,  287 

Cousin,  16 

Crantor,  13,  169 

Crassitius,  286 

Crates  the  Cynic,  118,  121 

—  the  Academician,  169 

—  the  New  Academician,  273 
Cratippus,  283 

Cratylus,  71,  126 
Creuzer,  328  note 
Critias,  92,  97 
Critolaus,  226  f. 
Cronius,  297 
Cynics,  117  ff.  293  ff. 
Cyrenaics,  122  ft 


TVAMASCIUS,  is,  355 

_U     Dardanus,  278 
Demetrius  of  Phalerum,  225 

—  the  Epicurean,  256 

—  the  Cynic.  294 

—  the  Magnesian,  11 


INDEX. 


DEM 

Democritus,  21,  76  ft 
Demonax,  294 
Dercyllides,  14 
Dexippus,  346 
Dicaearchus,  10,  224 
Diels,  8,  17,  76  note,  177  note 
Dio  of  Syracuse,  128 

—  Chrysostom,  299 
Diodes,  11 

Diodorus  Cronus,  115,  116 

—  the  Peripatetic,  226 
Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  43  ft 

—  the  Democritean,  83 

—  the  Cynic,  117,  120 

—  Laertius,  9,  12 
Dionysius  the  tyrant,  127 

—  the  younger,  128 

—  the  Stoic,  279 

—  the  Epicurean,  256  ff. 
Dionysodorus,  92,  95 
Dissen,  104 
Domitian,  291 

Doris,  225 


T7CPHANTUS,  57,  169 

£J     Eleatic  school,  36,  58  ft 

Elian  School,  117 

Empedocles,  36,  71  fL 

Epicharmus,  57 

Epictetus,  291  ff. 

Epicureans,  31,  255  ff. 

Epicurus,  11,  33,  76  note,  255  ff. 

Epimenides,  25 

Epiphanius,  9 

Eratosthenes,  11,  231,  251 

Erdtnann,  17 

Eretrian  school,  117 

Erymneus,  226 

Essenes,  317  ff. 

Eubulides,  114 

Euclid,  114,  127 

Eudemus,  8,  223  ff. 

Eudocia,  13 

Eudorus,  9,  14,  282,  311 

Eudoxus,  168,  199 

Euemerus,  122 

Eunapius,  13 


Euphrates,  287 

Euripides,  88 

Eurytus,  49 

Eusebius,  the  Neo-Platonist,  346 

—  of  Csesarea,  7,  9 

Euthydemus,  92,  95 

Evander,  270 

Evenus,  92 


T7ABIANUS  PAPIEIUS,  286 
JC      Fabricius,  15 
Favorinus,  12,  304 
Figulus.     See  Nigidius 
Flamininus,  275 
Freudenthal,  298  note 
Fulleborn,  15 


GAIUS,  297,  298 
Galenus,  8,  9,  299 
Gallienus,  328 
Gellius,  7 
Geminus,  279 
Gladisch,  19 
Gorgias,  91  ff. 
Grote,  17,  91, 126  note,  131 


HAEPOCRATION,  298,  315 
Hecato,  278 
Hegel,  5,  16,  69,  91 
Hegesias,  122,  125 
Hegesinus  (-silaus),  270 
Hegias,  354 
Heinze,  17 
Heitz,  178 
Heracleides  Ponticus,  10, 165, 1«8 

—  Lembus,  10 

—  the  Sceptic,  300 
Heracleitus  of  Ephesus,  36,  66, 

233 

—  the  Stoic,  287 
Herillus,  230,  232,  249 
Hermann,  91,  126  note,  132 
Hermarchus,  256 
Hermes  Trismegistus,  315 
Hermias  of  Atarneus,  170 


860 


INDEX. 


Hermias  the  Neo-Platonist,  850 

T  ACYDES,  270 

—  the  Christian,  9 

±J    Laelius,  277 

Henninus,  295 

Lange,  17 

Hermippus,  10,  172,  226                     Lassalle,  66  note,  69 

Hermodorus,  10                                  Leo,  225 

Hennotimus,  84                                  Leucippus,  36,  76  f. 

Herodotus  the  historian,  48 

Lewes,  17 

-  the  Sceptic,  302 

Libanius,  347 

Hesiod,  25 

Lobeck,  319 

Hcstiaeus,  165,  169 

Longinus,  327 

Hesychius,  13,  172  note 

Lucanus,  287 

Hicetas,  57 

Lucianus,  299 

Hierocles,  348 

Lucretius,  256 

Hieronvmus  the  Rhodian,  226 

Lutze,  39  note 

Hilden  brand,  17 

Lyco,    opponent    of    Socrates, 

Hipparchia,  118 

112 

Hippasus,  56 

—  the  Pythagorean,  10 

Hippias,  92,  96,  98 

—  the  Peripatetic,  226 

Hippo,  43 

Lycophron,  92 

Hippobotus,  12 

Lysis,  49 

Hippolytus,  8,  9 

Hirzel,  81  note,  231  naU 

Hody,  319 

MACROBTUS,  856 

Hypatia,  347 

Marcianus  Capella,  866 

Marinus,  354 

Marcus  Aurelius.   See  Antodnm 

TAMBLICHUS,  8,  13,  843  fL 
1    Jason,  279 
Ichthyas,  114 
]  d;e  us,  43 

Marsilius  Ficinus,  328  naU 
Maximus  of  Tyre,  297,  314 
—  the  Neo-Platonist,  346 
Megarians,  114-117 

Idomeneus,  11,  256 
Johannes  Philoponus,  14 
Ionic  Philosophers,  35,  37-46 

Meiners,  15 
Meletus,  112 
Melissus,  65  ff. 
Menedemus  of  Eretria,  117 

Isidores',  354 
Isocrates,  170 
Jnba,  307 

—  the  Cynic,  118 
-  the  Academician,  166 
Menippus,  118 

Tnlian    147 

Meno,  225 

Julian,  o4i 

Menodotus,  302 

Justinian,  355 

Meton,  71 
Metrodorns  of  Chios,  83 

—  the  Anaxagorean,  88 

—  the  Epicurean,  256 

KARSTEN,  68  note,  61  note  I 

—  of  Stratonice,  280 

Kirchhoff,  328  note 

Meyer,  J.  B.,  17,  203  not* 

Kirchaer,  328  note 

Mnesarchus,  278 

Kopp,  354  note 

Moderatns,  12,  307,  310 

Krohn,  134 

Moschos,  117 

INDEX. 


861 


Muller.H.  F.,  3-8  note 
Mullach,  18,  68  note,  61  note,  65 

nofr,  &c. 

Munk,  130  note,  133 
Musonius  liufus,  263  note,  290 
Myson,  27 


•yAUSIPHANES,  83,  265 
IX      Neanthes,  10 
Neleus,  179 
Neocles,  265 

Neo-Platonists,  32,  326  ff. 
Neo- Pythagoreans,  32,  306  fE. 
Nessus,  83 
Neuhauser,  39  note 
Nicolaus  of  Damascus,  283 
Nicomachus  the  Stagirite,  170 
—  of  Gerasa,  12,  307,  310 
Nigidius  Figulus,  307 
Nigrinus,  297 
NumeiiiuB,  8,  297,  307,  314 


OCELLUS,  306,  309 
(Enomaus,  294 
Olympiodorus  the  elder,  348 

—  the  younger,  355 
Oncken,  131 

Origen  the  Platonist,  327 

—  the  Father,  8 
Orphic  theogony,  25 


T)AMPHILUS,  255 

1      PansetiHS,     11,    114,    275, 

279 

Parmenides,  60  ff. 
Pasicles,  116 
Patro,  256  ff. 
Peregrinus  Proteus,  294 
Periander,  27 
Pericles,  84 
Perictione,  126 
Peripatetics,  171,  222  ff.,  282  ff., 

295  ff. 

Persa-.us,  230 
Persius,  287 


PTT 

Phiedo,  117 

Pluedrus,  256 
Phaenarete,  101 
Phanias.  10,  225 
Pherecydes,  25 
Philip,  King,  171 

—  of  Opus,  10,  131,  165,  168 
Philo  the  Megarian,  116, 116 

—  of  Larissa,  280 

—  the  Jew,  8,  320  ft 
Philodemus,  11,  176 
Philolaus,  45  note  2,  49  ff, 
Philostratus,  307 
Phocylides,  27 
Phormio,  226 

Photius,  7 

Pittacus,  27 

Plato,  8,  10,  21,  30,  86, 104, 122, 

126-169,  199,  214  ff. 
Plotinus,  32,  328  ff. 
Plutarch  of  Chseronea,  8,  9, 14, 

179,  297,  311  ff. 

—  of  Athens,  348 
Polemo,  169 
Pollio,  290 
Polus,  92,  96 
Polysenus,  256 
Polystratus,  256 
Porphyrius,  8,  12,  340  ff. 
Posidonius,  253  note,  278  1 
Potamo,  282 

Prantl,  17 
Praxiphanes,  225 
Preller,  17 
Priscus,  347 
Proclus,  8,  14,  350  ff. 
Prodicus,  92,  96,  97 
Protagoras,  91,  95,  96,  97,  98 
Protarchus  the  Rhetorician,  92 

—  the  Epicurean,  256 
Proxenus,  170 
Prytanis,  226 

Ptolemaeus  the  Peripatetic,  173 

—  the  Sceptic,  300  f. 
Pyrrho,  268  f . 
Pythagoras,  45  ff. 
Pythagoreans,  36,  45  ff. 
Pythias,  170 


862 


INDEX. 


RIB 

RIBBING,  131 
It     Richter,  A.,  328 
Hitter,  16,  40  note  1 
Koth,  19,  46  note 
ttohde,  76,  note 
Uose,  177  note 


SALLUSTIUS,  347 
Salonina,  328 
Sarpedon,  301 
Suturninus,  302,  304 
Satyrus,  10,  226 
8ca?vola,  277 
Sceptics,  older,  268  ff. 

—  later,  300  ff. 
Schaarschmidt,  45  note  2,  130 
Schaubach,  84  note  1 
Sclileiermacher,  15,  41,  66  note, 

69,   104,   107,   115,   130  note, 

132 

Schmidt,  L.,  17 
Schorn,  84  note  1 
Schuster,  66  note 
Schwegler,  17,  174  note 
Scipio  ^Kmilianus,  275,  277 
Seneca,  8,  244,  254,  288  ff. 
Severus,  299 
Sextii,  the,  286 
Sextus  Empiricus,  8,  303 
Siebeck,  17 
Simmias,  114 
Simplicius,  14 
Siro,  256 

Socher,  130  note,  132 
Socrates,  29,  100,  101  ff 
Solomon,  Wisdom  of,  319 
Solon,  26,  27 
Sopater,  346 

Sophists,  29,  37,  88  ff.,  137 
Sophroniscus,  101 
Sosi  crates,  11 
Sositrenes,  295 
Sotion  the  Peripatetic,  10,  226 

—  later  Penpal  etic,  295 

—  of  Alexandria,  286 
Speusippua,  10,  122,  165 
Sphierus,  11,  230,  254 


TTH 
Stallbaum,  130  note 


Stein,  von,  61  note  1,  72  note,  128 

note,  130  note 

Steinhart,  126  note,  130  not* 
Stilpo,  115 
Stobaeus,  J.,  7,  8 
Stoics,  31,  32,  229  ff. 
—  later,  276  ff.,  287  fL 
Strabo,  179,  279 
Strato,  225 
Striimpell,  16,  131 
Sturz,  72  note 
Suckow,  130  note 
Suidas,  13 
Susemihl,  130  note 
Synesius,  347 
Syrianus,  349 


rPAURUS,  297 

1      Teichmuller,   66  note,   158 

note  2 

Telecles,  270 
Teles,  231 
Tennemann,  15 
Tertullian,  8 
Thales,  27,  55,  37 
Theagenes,  294 
Themistius,  297 
Theo  of  Smyrna,  297,  314 
Theodas  (Theudas),  302 
Theodoretus,  8 
Theodoras  the  Atheist,  122,  125 

—  of  Asine,  346 
Thsoffonies,  25,  26 
Theomnestus,  282 
Theophrastus,  8,  222 
Theosebius,  349 
Thrasyllus,  14,  132,282 
Thrasymachus     the     Megarian, 

115 

—  the  Rhetorician,  92,  96,  98 
Tiedemann,  15 

Timaeus  the  Locrian,  308 
Timon,  268 
Tubero,  301 
Tyrannic,  179,  282 


INDEX. 


368 


1TERERWEQ,  17,  \ZQnott 
U      Dsener,  133 


T7ALCKENAER,  319 
V      Valentinus    the     Gnostic, 

315 

Varro,  285,  294 
Vatinius,  307 
Vatke,  61  nnt« 
Vegetius,  355 
Victorinus,  356 


WACHSMUTH,  18 
Winckelmann,  117  note 


yANTHIPPE,  102 
A     Xenarchus,  283 
Xeniades,  92,  93 
Xenocrates,  10,  165,  166  ff. 
Xenophanes,  58  ff. 
Xenophon,  10,  104, 113 


I7ALEUCUS,  306 
LA    Zeno  of  Elea,  63 

—  of  Citium,  233  ff. 

—  of  Tarsus,  231,  277 

—  the  Epicurean,  256,  27f 
Zeuxippus,  303 

Zenxis,  303 
Ziegler,  If 


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setts Institute  of  Technology.      Edited  by  JAMES  PHINNEY 
MUNROE.     342  pp.,  8vo.     $3.00,  net. 
The  author  had  hoped  himself  to  collect  these  papers  in  a  volume. 

The  Dial:  "A  fitting  memorial  to  its  author.  .  .  .  The  breadth  of  his 
experience,  as  well  as  the  natural  range  of  his  mind,  are  here  reflected.  The 
subjects  dealt  with  are  all  live  and  practical.  .  .  .  He  never  deals  with  them 
in  a  narrow  or  so-called  'practical '  way." 

Literature :  "  The  distinguishing  traits  of  these  papers  are  open-minded- 
ness,  brea  tth,  and  sanity.  .  .  .  No  capable  student  of  education  will  overlook 
General  Walker's  book  ;  no  serious  collection  of  books  on  education  will  be 
without  it.  The  distinguished  author's  honesty,  sagacity,  and  courage  shine 
on  every  page." 

The  Boston  Transcript:  "  Two  of  his  conspicuous  merits  characterize  these 
papers,  the  peculiar  power  he  possessed  of  enlisting  and  retaining  the  attention 
f»r  what  are  commonly  supposed  to  be  dry  and  difficult  subjects,  and  the  ca- 
pacity he  had  for  contioversy,  sharp  and  incisive,  but  so  candid  and  generous 
•hat  it  left  no  festering  wound." 

HENRY  HOLT  &  CO.    ! 

V'9? 


GUYAU'S   NON-RELIGION   OF   THE   FUTURE 

A  Sociological  Study.    By  M.  GUYAU.    543  pp.    8vo.    83.00. 

The  Christian  Register :  "One  of  the  best  handbooks  of  critical 
Knowledge  of  this  kind  which  is  accessible  in  the  English  language. 
.  .  .  He  is  never  blinded  by  his  hopes,  nor  is  he  oppressed  by  his 
faars.  .  .  .  The  impression  made  by  this  agnostic  writer  is  thrft  his 
'non-religion  '  is  more  religious  than  much  which  vaunts  itself  in  the 
name  of  religion.  His  cheerfulness,  truthfulness,  fairness,  the  evi- 
dent rectitude  of  his  motives,  and  the  tenderness  of  his  spirit  are 
models  for  those  who  would  argue  for  or  against  the  cherished  faith 
of  mankind." 

Boston  Transcript:  "Among  recent  works  on  serious  subjects 
this  book  holds  a  prominent  place;  .  .  .  displays  much  original  ob- 
servation and  research,  large  grasp  and  luminosity  of  style.  ...  A 
mine  of  information,  lucid  and  fascinating." 

ALLEN'S  EVOLUTION   OF   THE  IDEA  OF   GOD 

By  GRANT  ALLEN.    447  pp.    8vo.    83.00. 

Prof.  Frederick  Starr  in  The  Dial:  "The  style  is  bright  and 
attractive.  .  .  .  Shows  an  enormous  amount  of  thought  and  ingenu- 
ity; .  .  .  deserves  careful  study.  .  .  .  Abundant  matter  for  thought 
presented  strikingly  and  fearlessly." 

The  Literary  World:  "  A  wealth  of  information  gathered  from  a 
world-wide  field.  .  .  .  As  a  storehouse  of  facts,  it  cannot  fail  to  be 
very  useful  to  the  student  of  anthropology  and  comparative  religions." 

BENNETT'S   PRIMER  OF  THE  BIBLE 

By  Prof.  W.  H.  BKNNKTT,  of  Hackney  College,-  London.    928  pp. 

12010.     $1.00,  net. 

The  Expositor:  "An  attempt  to  sketch,  in  the  light  of  recent  criti- 
cism, the  history  of  the  Bible.  The  main  subjects  dealt  with,  in  ad- 
dition to  well-drawn  historical  outlines,  are  the  composition  of  the 
books,  their  chronological  order,  their  relations  to  one  another  and 
to  the  history  of  Israel,  of  Judaism,  and  of  the  Church,  and  the  pro- 
cess by  which  they  were  chosen,  collected,  and  set  apart  as  Sacred 
Scriptures.  The  treatment  of  the  book  is  scholarly,  without  being 
too  technical  for  the  ordinary  lay-student.  A  fair  and  consecutive 
account  is  given  of  some  recent  literary  conclusions  ;  due  allowance 
is  made  for  open  questions,  and  no  approach  to  controversy  occurs 
at  any  point.  The  utmost  reverence  prevails  in  the  book,  together 
with  a  spiritual  perception  which  should  reassure  any  who  have 
doubted  if  critical  positions  can  be  adopted  without  the  sacrifice  of  a 
deep  sense  of  Scriptural  authoritativeness." 

The  Congregationalist:  "The  book  is  well  arranged,  ably  com- 
posed, and  sets  forth  in  a  simple  and  lucid  fashion  most  of  what 
students  need  to  have  laid  before  them.  It  is  useful  as  a  book  of 
reference  and  might  serve  as  a  text-book  upon  its  subject." 

WENLEY'S   OUTLINES  OF  KANT'S    CRITIQUE 

By  Prof.  R.  M.  WBNLHY,  of  the  Univ.  of  Michigan.  66  pp.  i6mo. 

"^fj^McNulty,  Professor  in  the  College  of  the  City  of  New  York: 
"  A  thoroughly  satisfactory  piece  of  work.  Prof.  Wenley  de- 
serves the  thanks  of  students  about  to  begin  the  study  of  Kant  for 
the  heip  his  manual  affords  in  overcoming  difficulties  and  in  clarify- 
ing many  of  the  perplexing  problems  of  the  Kantian  philosophy 

HENRY 'HOLT  &  CO.,     fi9 


MASON'S  HYPNOTISM  AND  SUGGESTION  m 

peutics,  Education,  and  Reform.     344  pp.     121110.    $1.50. 
2d  Impression  ot  a  popular  yet  scientific  work. 

Book  Buyer:  • '  The  tone  of  Dr.  Mason's  book  could  not  be  bet- 
ter. .  .  .  The  statements  of  a  modest,  earnest,  candid  man  of 
science,  who  is  not  thinking  of  himself,  but  who,  through  facts, 
is  seeking  after  law  and  through  law,  for  the  newer  therapeu- 
tics, the  wider  education,  the  nobler  living." 

N.  Y.  Herald:  "Written  by  a  practising  physician,  who 
finds  an  incidental  interest  in  the  scientific  study  of  an  impor- 
tant subject.  Dr.  Mason  does  not  seek  to  astonish  you  with  the 
record  of  hypnotic  marvels  performed  by  himself.  He  depre- 
cates the  sensational  ways  in  which  hypnotism  has  been  ex- 
ploited by  the  periodicals  and  the  press,  so  that  the  unlearned 
and  unstable  have  been  duped  into  all  sorts  of  extravagant  ideas 
as  to  its  possibilities." 

Public  Opinion:  "  A  model  of  simplicity  and  common  sense. 
The  book  gives  a  clear  idea  of  the  meaning  of  hypnotism  and 
suggestion  in  a  scientific  sense,  but  it  is  to  be  more  highly 
valued  for  its  exposition  of  the  utilities  (and  illustrations)  of 
these  agents  of  reform  and  therapeutics.  The  chapter  concern- 
ing '  Rapport '  is  to  be  especially  recommended  to  those  who 
find  in  the  phenomena  of  subconsciousness  support  for  super- 
natural and  spiritistic  theories." 

Chicago  Evening  Post:  "He  discusses  the  question  with 
earnestness,  candor  and  many  illustrations.  ...  He  says  many 
things  that  are  sensible  and  suggestive." 

Churchman:  "The  book  has  a  very  practical  value,  and  con- 
siderable ethical  significance." 

MASON'S    TELEPATHY   AND   THE    SUBLIMINAL 

SELF.  Treating  of  Hypnotism,  Automatism,  Dreams,  and  Phantasms. 
5th  Impression.  343  pp.  12010.  $1.50. 

Boston  Transcript:  "He  repudiates  the  idea  of  the  super- 
natural altogether,  and  in  this  he  is  in  accord  with  the  best 
thought  of  the  day.  .  .  .  Interesting  and  logical." 

N.  Y.  Times:  "  The  curious  matter  he  treats  about  he  pre- 
sents in  an  interesting  manner." 

Outlook:  "  Will  have  many  readers.  .  .  .  A  not  inconsiderable 
contribution  to  psychical  research." 

Chicago  Tribune:  "Certain  to  attract  wide  attention;  .  .  . 
thoroughly  interesting.  .  .  .  The  spirit  of  his  work  is  such  as  to 
deserve  respectful  attention  from  every  scientific  mind." 

HENRY  HOLT  &  CO. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

405  Hilgard  Avenue,  Los  Angeles,  CA  90024-1388 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


REC'O  I. 

OCT 


APR  16 1997 


3  1158  01124  3374 


A    000029599     8 


